A Little Warmth
by Centroides
Summary: Sometimes fate sends you something to make up for the heartbreak of war. You have to make the most of it because in war, you never know how long it will last.
1. Chapter 1

A Little Warmth

Chapter 1 : Just a taste

By the time Actor had dressed and reached the kitchen table the other cons were there but not Garrison. Seeing Chief looking showered and dressed told him they had both returned from their early morning run. He hoped that the Officer was not on the phone.

No such luck. Lieutenant Garrison stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a slice of buttered toast from the plate on the table and said, "Stay Put," before turning and taking a bite as he headed for the door. London had called.

Instead of returning to brief his cons he had been placed on a plane and flown deep into enemy territory. The drop was miles from his target but he knew he would be able to get there. He was a resourceful man and accustomed to travelling. Having forged documents and money helped.

Dressed in the black uniform of the Panzer troops, he stepped down from the train at the Stuttgart station and looked around. He had seen a picture of his contact but had been told not to expect to meet there. To the east of the station was a park. This was where the meet was set but checking his watch he saw he has missed the first window. The train had been delayed several times so he was going to have to find a place to stay until the next scheduled time. In keeping with his cover he left the station and headed for the closest restaurant. When he entered he saw there were only a few late diners left so he sat and ordered. War time rationing meant the fare was limited but he was hungry so it did not matter. He ate.

When he finished he paid and left. The daylight was receding and he was tired but the night was pleasant, the temperature perfect for walking so after looking about to establish his next move as random he set off for the park.

He returned to the station, nodding politely to the few people who were taking advantage of the warm evening. As he headed down the road beside of the station he was accosted by an old man who smelled strongly of alcohol. The old soldier wanted to reminisce about the last war. Garrison gentle evaded his clutches and continued on his way. Dusk was settling as he entered the gardens. The wide paths were occupied by a few lovers and an elderly man with a dog. Curfew would be soon, he would have to be careful. As he walked slowly to his destination he watched but he also wondered about the rest of his team. They would have been told by now but would they obey? The guys knew right from wrong and he knew they would not deliberately do something stupid but they did have a penchant for getting into trouble. Usually all he had to do was go bail them out but this time he would not be there. Would they take this into consideration? Probably not. Chances were he would not have a team when he returned but there was nothing he could do about it now. A noise off to the right brought his attention back to the here and now. Just an animal but he had to be vigilant. He needed to know where possible ambush sites were and any possible escape routes. This was the most dangerous part of the mission. If he or his contact were being followed then they both would be caught. Garrison could not afford to let that happen. He walked past the meeting place watching carefully but unobtrusively. Next stop was a hotel and sleep. Tomorrow was another day and another chance.

The cons had finished their evening meal and were now sitting around the table relaxing.

"'Ey Actor, if the Warden doesn't come back, what'll you do?"

The con man blew out a cloud of smoke as he considered his reply. In reality he had already decided but it never hurt to look thoughtful. "That would depend on who I was teamed up with."

"It would be us. We're a team."

"I was referring to the Officer. He would have to be someone I could work with. That is essential to my role."

"What about you?" he asked the safecracker.

"I don't know. The work we do's not so bad but I don't want to work with a guy that such a Boy Scout."

"Go on, admit it, you like the guy," teased Goniff.

"I didn't say I didn't. I'd just like it if he wasn't so…"

"Military?" offered Actor.

"Bossy," he said. "Always telling us what to do."

"You mean always telling us what we can't do?" offered Goniff.

Casino grinned. "Yeah."

"Maybe you should consider what he lets us get away with instead of what he does not allow."

With a snort the safecracker turned to the Englishman and asked what he would do.

"Oh I don't know. I thought about scarpering but I'd miss me mates. 'oo would I 'ave to bet with to earn money?"

"That reminds me…"

"Oh no. I don't owe you. We're even since you lost the bet on whether the Warden was coming back from London."

Casino grunted. He was right. "What about you, Chief?"

"I dono." He knew Casino had asked just to include him in the conversation. They knew what he would say. Without Garrison, he feared being sent back to G-CAT and he feared being drugged again. All he could hope for was enough time for Actor to check out whoever was to lead them. If it did not look good then he was gone.

"Don't worry, mate," said Goniff confidently, "Warden'll be back."

The next morning as Garrison headed for the park and the hoped for rendezvous there was little activity back at their base. The men had eaten a leisurely breakfast and then lounged in the courtyard. Casino brought out a soccer ball and they had kicked that around for a bit. They were considering their options. Casino thought they should head to the pub but Actor was dragging his feet. The Warden had said 'stay put' but that might have just meant for the afternoon and his expected return. They had stayed but he had not returned. They did not need Actor's permission but it was more fun when they all went. Chief had been watching the interplay but suddenly he stopped and turned to look to the side of the building. No one noticed until he spoke, announcing they had company.

"Is it the Warden?" asked Goniff hopefully.

"Probably got a mission for us," grumbled Casino. He had been hoping for some alcohol and someone soft and willing to help him drink it.

"Ain't the Warden," said Chief as he turned to face the back door. Whoever had arrived was now in the building.

As Chief predicted it was not the Warden but the Sargent Major who stepped out the door and called them to come in. Four curious and slightly worried men headed for the steps. What if it was bad news about Garrison? Had he been injured or captured? What if he was dead?

When they entered their room they were surprised by who was standing by the window. Their first thoughts were, had he seen the bars. They watched for his reaction. The disgust that had shaped his features the first time he had come here was gone. Instead there was interest. After how they had saved the mission to rescue the German General he had changed his opinion of them. After joining them for a drink they had almost forgiven him for throwing them to the wolves.

"Major Richards," said Actor.

"I am glad to see you all here."

"What's 'appened to the Warden?"

"I have no knowledge of that."

"Is that usual or is there trouble?" asked Actor with concern. Agents were known to disappear, either killed or captured, never to be seen again.

"That is usual. Your 'Warden' reports to someone else."

Casino's grumbled, "Bullshit", was loud enough for all to hear. "Why don't you just tell us the truth and say you can't tell us." That earned him a glare but no verbal response.

"If you are not here to inform us of the Lieutenant's status then why are you here?" asked the unofficial leader of the cons.

"I have a mission," the major looked to the Guardian, "for Chief."

Back in Stuttgart Garrison was walking down the path to the meet. He had already circled around and checked from the back after making sure he was not being tailed. The contact was alone and waiting.

"Guten morgen, Liebling," he said with a warm smile. She was pretty, sitting on the bench in her pale blue frock with a little white collar. The white cardigan was open revealing the fitted waist which emphasized her trim shape. Her light brown hair was pinned back from her face but her curls bounced about her shoulders.

"Ich habe dich vermisst Schatzchen," she replied warmly, rising to step into his arms. As they embraced she whispered, "Wir mussen uns beeilen."

Craig gave her a kiss on the cheek and took her hand. They walked calmly back the way he had come chatting all the way of inane things that lovers talked about. Her travel papers listed her as his wife, Ava Adler, married to Dirk Adler, a Panzer Officer.

The Officer's papers were in order so they boarded the train quickly and found an empty compartment. Garrison then briefed his 'wife' on the detail she needed to know.

When he finished she held out her hand, palm down, and said, "Good thing I brought my own ring." She was smiling as she added coyly, "Did we have a good wedding?"

She had a sense of humour.

Ava was silent for a time and sat looking about. Her mind was not silent though. She worried. All her life she had gone out of her way to make friends; that was just her way. Now she was going to be travelling with an unknown man who was acting as her husband. Was he acting? He had every right to dislike her and she accepted that but she would like to know how he really felt. If he did not hate her then they might even be friends. If he hated her then she had better watch for a betrayal. Did she want to know his disgust? No, but she needed to know if she could trust him. She had to know. It would be better to wait and maybe pick up some clues from his behaviour but the door opened and a family man peeked in and then withdrew. She realized that they might not be alone much longer. She had to ask now.

"Do you think less of me because of what I have done?" she asked quietly.

Garrison knew she was uncomfortable and had expected something but this threw him. Even worse, he had to wait as several people walked past. "I don't understand. Because of what?"

"If I were selfless then I would have passed on the information. Instead I… I insisted that I be brought out before I will divulge what I have learned. Is that not black mail?"

"Using information to your advantage is not unheard of." He was hedging and they both knew it.

"But do you think less of me for doing it?"

Her tone and the look on her face told him that his opinion mattered. She did not appear to be conniving in the least but how could he answer without all the facts. He knew agents from both sides bought, sold and bartered information.

Sensing his quandary she knew she would have to open herself to him. It was dangerous and she would probably regret it but… No, she could not. All she could say was, "My life is in danger. This was the only way I could see to save myself. I do regret having to do it this way but I had no other choice. I want you to understand. I am not an evil person."

Garrison knew she was telling him something. Why would she be in danger? Was she wanted by the police? Was she with a Resistance group or was there something else? He had to put her at ease to help with their cover. They were supposed to be newlyweds. "It does not matter the reason. I am here to get you out and that is what I will do."

He wanted to ask about the danger but he had to respect her privacy. There was a way to minimize the risk, though. "Is this danger something that will affect our leaving?" The flash of fear might have gone un-noticed if he hadn't learned from watching Chief. He too was quick to hide such emotions that left him vulnerable to attack.

If she said nothing and they did not meet anyone who knew her then there would not be any way to prove who she was. Before heading to the park she had been meticulous about removing any sign of her secret. She had even stolen other clothes. She gave her answer with a shake of her head. She dared not voice her lie to her savior.

Back in England the cons stunned silence allowed the Major to continue. "Pack what you need. I'll brief you on the way."

"You can't just walk in here and take him," insisted Casino. As expected the cons closed ranks around the Guardian, verbally and physically

"Yes I can. He, like you, is under contract to the Allied Army," replied the Officer.

"But 'e only works for the Warden, I mean, the Lieutenant," put in Goniff.

"He is a Guardian. He works for any Handler." The Officer thought that would end the questions. They were a distraction but it pleased him that the Guardian had fit in so well that his team mates had become protective of him.

"It's not someone from G-CAT is it? Those guys are …"

Chief was too scared to follow the conversation. What was he to do? What could he do? Nothing. He had to go along with it. Or did he? Should he run? Again, running was an option but where would that get him? He would lose everything, his friends and even his Hearth. No, he had to do as the Major said. He turned to his cot to get his jacket. The days were warm but the nights were still cool.

Casino followed the Guardian and whispered, "Don't kill'm. They'll hunt you down if you do."

Chief acknowledged the comment with a quick look and then he headed for the door where the Major was waiting. As he passed his team mates he saw they were worried the same as he was. Did Richards know Chief was not on the drugs? What would he do and what about whoever he was going with?

The Officer turned and headed down the hall. Actor's quiet, "Look after yourself," told him the guys were on his side. He left and followed the Officer. As they descended the stairs he continued to worry. Then another thought arose. He needed his knives. He had one that he kept but Garrison had the others in his office. If he asked for them then Richards might remember about the drugs. No he wasn't going to take the chance. He would have to be real careful with this knife and make sure he didn't lose it.

Upstairs Goniff asked the question that scared them all. "You don't think 'ughes' 'ad anything to do with this do you?"

"Youse? Oh, you mean Hughes?"

"Yeah. The bloke 'oo set up that last phony mission to test Chief?"

"Oh my lord, I hope not." They all looked shocked especially since there was nothing they could do about it. Chief was on his own.

"'E isn't coming back is 'e?" No one had to answer Goniff's question. They all pictured what was going to happen. Come nightfall, someone was going to try to inject him with the drugs. Chief was not going to submit. He would run but would he have to kill to escape? Would the Army just let him go? G-CAT would not. Where would Chief go? Garrison was going to be pissed off.

After he had been briefed a Corporal drove Chief to the airfield. He was going to be dropped with another operative into Norway where they were to watch for the arrival of the Tirpitz, a German battleship that threatened the Allied convoys bound for Russia. Armed with a radio they were to signal when she arrived.

Back in Germany the train began to move. They were on their way but not out of danger. An elderly couple joined them. Ava and the other woman, Gerda, began talking filling the compartment with happy chatter about children and cooking with prewar ingredients. From the way they got along you would have thought they were friends for years not strangers on a train. Ava even managed to include her husband in the conversation asking him for confirmation of a certain dish she had made. Garrison was impressed. She was a natural. When the couple left for their stop she fell silent for a minute.

"Do you like children?" she asked. "Oh, I am sorry. That is personal." She smiled shyly. "It is just that you remind me of someone. I suppose you have a sweetheart back home." Her smile slipped. "I was in love once. He was killed in November 'in 38. It was a terrible night."

The door rattled open and four soldiers looked into the compartment. Seeing Garrison's rank the one in front hesitated for a split second before being pushed in by the second man who had not seen him. By then it was too late so he sat down. Ava moved closer to her 'husband' to make room for the fourth man. It had been a long time since Craig had sat this close to a woman but as they sat gently swaying to the motion of the car her presence against his shoulder felt good. She also smelled good. In an effort to make her more comfortable he shifted slightly and she turned her head and gave him a smile of gratitude. He could not help the smile that softened his face. If he blocked out the uniforms on the opposite bench he could be happy. He had sat like this with a girl, Beth, in High School and several times at dances when he was at West Point. He missed this. How he missed this. He sighed.

She must have heard him or felt the breath because she turned and taking his hand she asked him if he was all right. How could he answer that the way he was feeling, so lonely. All he could do was paste a reassuring smile on his face and tell her yes, just tired.

"Of course you are," she said smiling sweetly. "That is why we are on our way to Paris. One week in the city of love with the man I love."

Garrison's heart twisted. How did she do that? Her hand gently squeezed his hand and she turned her face up to his. Without thought he leaned down and kissed her ever so gently on the lips. He wanted to kiss her deeper but dared not. As it was he was just keeping up appearances, for the con. That was all he was doing. That was all. Nothing else. He had to, to keep them alive.

A sound drew his eye across the compartment. The two soldiers were exchanging looks. They were trying not to watch but he could see they were wishing they were in his shoes. With his rank he could have rebuked them but why? They were lonely just like he was. He said nothing.

Minutes past in the compartment, quiet minutes, peaceful minutes but it could not last. The train was slowing. Garrison checked the window but saw only countryside. Something was wrong. One of the soldiers got up and left. He felt his wife's fear through the pressure on his hand. It was not overt but it was enough to tell him she was worried. He turned to her and gave her a smile which she returned. The pressure eased a little.

The wait was long. The soldier returned with the news that the train would be delayed so the bridge over the River Rhine could be checked for damage before the train could cross. All they could do was wait.

Hours later they pulled into Strasbourg. The train had to be resupplied so they had time to get something to eat but they hurried back and took their seats. Finally at dusk just after the solders returned, they were under way again.

Back in England Chief was introduced to his partner just before they boarded. No words were spoken though they each nodded an acknowledgement. The plane was too noisy for conversation so they sat on opposite sides and waited. The signal came and they jumped. As he floated down Chief recalled the pictures he had been shown. The ship they were to watch for, at almost eight hundred feet long, was an impressive sight with its main battery of eight 15 inch guns in four twin turrets. She also had anti-aircraft guns and even torpedo tubes. No wonder the Allies wanted her sunk. He watched the approaching trees and hoped he would not get hung up or blown out to sea. The second chute was just above so he could not see it.

Luck was with him and he was almost on the ground before the corner of the silk caught on a tree limb. The abrupt stop jerked him off his feet and he fell but at least he was on the ground. He triggered the harness release and struggled to get the harness off over the heavy coat he had been given. He switched the pack he had been given from his chest to his back and began rolling up the cords and material. All around him there were tall evergreen trees standing dark and thick. He had managed to land in the clearing. The other agent was not as lucky. Off to the left, in the thick stand of evergreen trees, he could hear the sound of breaking branches.

Chief gathered the last of his chute into his arms and headed for the trees, stepping carefully over the rocky terrain. Pushing his way between the stiff branches he stepped into the interior where the lower branches had from the lack of light. The day was overcast with thick cloud cover so in here where the upper branches blocked most of the light it was dim. He waited for his eyes to adjust. There within twenty feet was his team mate suspended and hopelessly tangled. As he approached he assessed the best way to get her down. As he watched she tried to reach her boot where undoubtedly she had a knife but the way she was tangled restricted her movement. If he tried to throw his knife to her and she missed then he might lose it. He was going to have to climb up and cut her lose. The problem there was not only getting there but where to cut that would release her without causing her to drop awkwardly.

Selecting a tree he stuffed the chute at the base, dropped the pack and began to climb but the coat restricted his movements so he took it off. Up he went, wishing Goniff was here. He was good at this. Finally he reached the first line. If he cut this she would be able to move but cutting the farther one first would be better. She was not pleased with his choice and she told him so. Ignoring her threats he moved into position and began cutting the cords. It was slow going; his knife was a stiletto used for stabbing not sawing. Each completed cut freed her a little more until she was able to twist around to free herself and drop down. He climbed down.

His hands were sticky from the sap and bits of bark and tiny twigs clung to his hands. He wanted to clean his hands but there was only a thick bed of needles on the ground. The constant tree cover prevented even the grass from growing here. As she unslung the radio from her chest he picked up his coat, balled his hand and stuck his arm in the sleeve. Then he did the same with the other arm as she checked the transmitter. Satisfied, she slung the radio onto her back and began to walk. He grabbed his pack and followed.

Once they were in the open she looked around to get her bearings then set off. He rubbed his hands relatively clean on the lichens on the rocks and followed. Her pace was good, even and steady through the trees and over the rough ground until she came to a steep hill. Carefully she picked her footing, sometimes using her hands to steady herself. Always confident, Chief wondered if this was where she was from since she seemed to know where she was going. It was hard to tell what she looked like with her heavy coat, mitts and rabbit fur hat. The words she spoke when he cut her loose were foreign so maybe she was Norse. Norse? Was that the right word? No time to wonder; he had to watch his footing too. On they travelled.

It was getting even darker when she finally slowed at the edge of a rocky meadow. When she reached for his pack he slung it down and opened it. This was where they would spend the night. While she gathered wood and cleared a space for a fire he pulled out the rations and the shelter that had been provided. When he checked to make sure he had everything he found the little metal case. On the front was a Red Cross. It was their medical kit. Out of curiosity he pried it open. There were bandages and sulfa packets but there was also a needle and a tiny bottle; the Compliance Drug. She was going to try to drug him!

Where was she? Without turning he listened. Fifteen feet away behind him, there was a rustling sound. Good, she would not see what he was about to do as he slipped the kit into his coat pocket. At some point he would hide it away from the camp. He would not be drugged again.

Quickly he set up the shelter and added some improvements. By the time he was done she had the fire going so he brought the tins of rations.

They ate in silence with only the light of the fire. He did not mind the silence, in fact he suspected that she did not speak English. It would be nice to know her name at least. Chief would have liked to remain sitting by the fire but he knew there was danger out there so he slipped into the dark and circled their camp. It would also give him an opportunity to hide the kit. A silhouette against the stars was probably an owl and the sound of movement in the distance, a wolf pack. There was no immediate danger.

Directly behind the shelter was a tree that had fallen against its neighbor. He placed the kit under the lowest branches where they lay on the ground. He would return in the morning to fetch it.

What was she going to do when he got back? Was she looking for the drug right now? What would he say if she asked about it? What was he worried about? He couldn't understand her if she did. He would just say he didn't understand. She was not big enough to try to force him. It was going to be all right.

He froze. What if that was just morphine and she had the drug with her? His stomach clenched and he suddenly went cold. Without thought he turned back to where he had put the kit. If he could only read then he might be able to read what was on the bottle but he Couldn't Read! How was he going to know? Maybe he could just stay out here and patrol. He'd done that before; stayed out in the cold. He could do that. It was too cold to fall asleep. He could also die of the cold too. They always took the night in shifts, never one person all night.

What choice did he have? Maybe if he got his blanket and wrapped it around himself then that would keep him a bit warmer. That was what he would do. Maybe she was asleep in the shelter. He would go back and get his blanket.

As he approached the camp he did not see her until he entered the clearing. She was sitting in the shelter watching for him, her look questioning. He just shook his head and she relaxed. The fire had burned down to a bed of embers as he looked for his blanket.

"Kommer hit," she said and then beckoned to him.

He tried to see her hands. Did she have the needle? Was she going to try to inject him? He could not get too close. He was stronger than her if she tried to grab him but he did not want to hurt her. The same with his knife. He could threaten her but he did not open his knife unless he planned to use it and this time he would not be using it.

She repeated her words and gesture only this time she pulled the top blanket back. She was inviting him in to sleep. Watching very carefully for any false move, he stepped closer. He started to crawl in but panicked when she reached for his coat buttons.

He pulled back and she said, "Ikke vær dum." Pulling back the top blanket some more she showed him how she had spread her coat out under her. She wanted his coat to put on top of them. Chief was not entirely convinced. He had been fooled before. Looking closely in the dark he tried to see if there was anything hidden. Not finding anything he undid his coat and took it off. Lying down beside her he spread it over her. He needed to stay way over to the side. It was not right for them to be this close.

The young woman had other ideas. As soon as he was still she snuggled over closer bringing the coat with her. Her arm pulled the edge of the coat over him but then remained lying over his chest. Her head lay against his shoulder.

Chief knew he had to get some sleep. They were not at their destination and he had no idea how much farther they had to go but they probably should get an early start. He closed his eyes and tried to relax but his mind refused. All he could think of was the woman lying tight against his side with her arm across his chest.

They were still dressed but it did not take long for her warmth to soak through his sweater. He knew this was wrong, the Guardian knew this was wrong but the man relished the feeling. Reluctantly the Guardian admitted that this felt good. Having a woman in his arms again felt good. This was something he dared not hope for, it was only to be dreamed of and here it was real. He meant to stay awake so as not to miss a moment but with the peace and warmth he drifted off.

The German train chugged into the night. Garrison knew he could rest, not sleep but at least rest. Ava had to be tired so he leaned farther into the corner and pulled her closer to lean on him. She moved turning slightly to get more comfortable and laid her cheek on his shoulder. This time she was the one to sigh and he smiled. Here he was a man trained to kill with his bare hands providing comfort to a woman. His Mother would be pleased that he had not lost that side of his nature, the gentle protector. As he sat there he felt the heat of her body against his chest, her hair tickled his neck. He tried to keep his mind on serious matters but he could not help that it wandered back to the woman lying against him. What would it be like to have someone like this with him always? Images came unbidden to his mind; pictures of the two of them sitting before a fire, a glass of wine in hand or walking down a country lane hand in hand. Damn this war that would bring him this taste of heaven but then deny them any future; because they could have no future. She would go her way and he would go back to fighting this war. If he survived then maybe he could look her up but war time romance did not mean peacetime romance. Desperation made you do many things.

He fell back on his West Point training. Harden your heart and do your duty. Do nothing that would bring disgrace to your name or to the name of the United States of America. On the outside, the Officer kept his oath. He would not shame himself or her but inside the man was relishing the moment. He would commit to memory and keep it always.

Dawn was breaking when the train pulled into the station. Ava woke and sat up, stretching with lady like dignity. It was time for some breakfast.

Chief's internal alarm woke him before dawn. That was normal for him but the presence of a warm body beside him was not. He knew he should get up and check for danger but he could not force himself to leave. Minutes later she moved, pulling away from him. The warmth lingered for a moment but the lack of presence destroyed the reason to stay. He moved to the side and slipped out from under the coats as she sat up. Pulling his coat out from under the blanket he crawled out and pulled it on. Still crouched he looked and listened. He could not go deep without fear of getting lost but he could extend a bit. The air was cold and clear, sharp in his nostrils, smelling of pine and damp. His breath appeared in puffs of mist that quickly dissipated. There were no unusual sounds, no other heartbeats so he stood. It was too dark to see other than shapes but he slipped out and patrolled around the perimeter of their campsite. The first aid kit went into his pocket. There was nothing unusual to be seen or heard. By the time he returned she was out stirring up the fire and the cloudy sky was lightening. They would eat then continue on to their destination.

As the fraudulent Panzer officer opened the compartment door he was surprised to see the conductor coming down the aisle. He brought bad news. All leaves had been cancelled and he was to go directly to Nazi Headquarters for his new orders.


	2. Chapter 2

A Little Warmth

Chapter 2: And Then It Is Gone

Ava was behind him and heard the news. Playing the petulant wife she complained, "But we were to see Paris together."

"I know my dear, but I must go."

"I won't get to see Paris. I'll have to go home."

"No, sweetheart," he said warmly. "You go ahead. Go to Paris. At least one of us will see it." He pulled her tight to his chest as he whispered. "I'll be there as fast as I can."

Pulling her head away from him she glared at the conductor and said rudely, "Can't you at least give us a minute?" The poor man had the grace to look embarrassed and he stepped back but did not leave.

Change of plans, thought Garrison. Seeing as the conductor had acknowledged their right to privacy he ushered his 'wife' back into the compartment for a proper farewell. He pulled her in close and whispered in her ear. She was to go to the hotel. Arrangements had been made for a room. Go there and wait. He would come as quickly as he could.

When he released her she wiped her eyes and said in a normal voice. "I understand. It's just I have been looking forward to spending this time with you." She pulled herself up tall and said, "But duty calls and you must go to fight for the Fatherland." As he stepped out into the aisle she added sadly, "It won't be the same without you." Then she added, "Dirk? Be careful and come back safely." He kissed her and he meant it. No acting was required.

Unfortunately the bearer of bad tidings was still there waiting. As Garrison followed him to the exit part of his mind was amazed at how well Ava had played that scene. She was about to be abandoned in the heart of a city she had never been in but she showed no outward signs of fear. She was good.

Another part of his mind was busy planning his escape and return. He had to get back on this train. To make it look good he stopped at the doorway and asked directions to the Headquarters. Finally clear, he was about to slip away to change clothes and re-board when he was spotted by a senior Panzer Officer. He beckoned and Garrison had no choice but to obey. He was on his way to the Nazi Headquarters.

As they walked through the crowd Garrison began considering the situation. A recall of personnel meant something was or had happened. If he played along and his papers passed scrutiny then he might learn something useful. Advanced notice of troop movement, including tanks, was always important. Unfortunately staying here would leave Ava unprotected. Protecting her was the mission he had been given.

Ava was on a train travelling on his papers. This far along there was no reason for the authorities to bother her. She was safe for now. As long as he got back to her to get her to the coast she was safe.

On the other hand, she was carrying information that Allied Command considered valuable enough to send an operative in to get her out. That meant she was valuable but she was more than that. He pictured her smile, the sound of her voice. He remembering the feel of her lying against him and how that had made him feel. She had become valuable to him. He would protect her.

Another fact to consider was his papers. They were good enough to convince a Railway Inspector but what about a German HQ? If he was spotted then he was dead. In the past that would not have bothered him as much. With his team backing him up there was always the possibility of a rescue. This time he was on his own and responsible for another. That was too much of a risk. He was going to have to cut and run.

While she packed the cooking utensils Chief dismantled the lean-to shelter and stowed it and the aid kit in the pack. They each shouldered their burdens and she took the lead. After crossing a wide gully and climbing the long gentle slope on the other side they reached a wide open area at the top. As he turned to survey the sights he could see the water off to the north. From their vantage point they could see any passing ships. Off to the north east he could see flashes of roads and buildings between the trees. That had to be the town of Trondheim. When he turned back she was setting up the radio in the shelter of one of the surrounding trees. That was his cue. Taking his pack to a spot near the radio he left it and headed into the forest. He wanted some boughs but did not want to leave signs that anyone had been there. Carefully selecting one from here and one farther on he was able to gather enough. Returning he laid them on the ground and set up the shelter. Not knowing how long they would be there he wanted her to be comfortable. He wanted to lie beside her again and feel her touch, her warmth.

They sat side by side, facing the water. She pointed to a bird that had flown into the tree and said something, probably what it was called. It looked like a crow but it had white underneath. A Norwegian Crow maybe? It looked about then flew off. He listened to other birds that were returning now that they were sitting still. It was spring but this far north it was still cold and sitting still was going to be even colder. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her. She was young, probably not twenty years old. Stray strands of blonde hair had escaped from under her hat and now blew about her face. With a swipe of a gloved hand they were tucked behind her ear. She was pretty in a kid sister kind of way.

Chief forced his mind back to the reason they were there. They were to watch for the ship's arrival and then she would radio it in. He wondered if they were in any danger of falling bombs when the planes came to blow up the ship. Unfortunately there would be nowhere safe when that happened. It was inevitable that some were dropped wide of the target. Maybe he could convince her to leave right after she sent the signal.

It was only a short walk of a couple of blocks to the two and a half story grey stone building. It was an impressive building with its tall arched double doorways with stained glass at the top. The Nazi flags hanging out front declared its new function. Once inside they were directed down a hall and up the stairs. When they reached the top Garrison saw the sign for the washrooms. That was a possible exit but if his luck held he might learn more. He kept walking, hoping he was not making a mistake.

Several uniformed Officers were standing around a table that had been set up in the hall. A clerk was checking papers against his list. No matter how good his papers were Garrison knew his name would not be on that list. He had to run now. The Major who had accompanied him was talking to a fellow Officer so Garrison stepped back and headed for the washroom. No one noticed. With any luck there would be a window he could climb out.

He was in luck with the window but there were three other men in the room. He would have to wait in the stall.

And wait.

And wait.

Finally the last two men washed up and headed for the door but one spoke as they left. What he said was worth the wait. He had a clue to what was going on. As soon as the door closed Garrison was out of the stall and at the window.

It was locked!

No, just stuck. He heaved again and it moved with painful stiffness. Again he strained to raise it enough that he could climb out. He got it as far as it would go and looked out. Down below was an empty alleyway. He leaned out, hopped up onto the sill and by folding up as tight as he could he managed to pull his legs out. He turned and gripped the sill as he lowered himself down. Finally he let go and dropped.

For some reason the ground seemed lower than he thought and he landed hard falling to the pavement. He got to his feet as fast as he could and started walking with two thoughts on his mind; get as far away as possible and find civilian clothes. Several blocks away, when he had almost given up hope, he saw a men's clothing store. Keeping what he hoped was enough to get him to Paris if need be, he bought pants and a sweater for 'his brother' who had been wounded. The French shop keeper buried his resentment at the sight of cash and offered to sell him a cane as well. He took it. With his new disguise in hand Garrison left the shop.

Once he was changed Garrison headed back to the train station again but he was too late. The train and Ava were gone.

Back in Norway the two figures sat in silence. Finally Chief got up the courage to speak. "My name's" and he touched his chest, "Rainy. What's yours?"

She turned and smiled at him as the sun peaked through a cloud. Chief would never forget that moment with her smile, the sun bringing colour to her face and hair, the warmth of the sun on his face and the sound of her voice as she said, "Marika." Chief's smile was automatic and bigger than he had smiled in a long time. He could die a happy man right now but he would rather spend time here with her. What else could he say? They had no words in common but she understood and she blushed and looked away. She gave a little wiggle and lifted the binoculars to her face but Chief could see she was still smiling.

It was a long day with nothing to do but sit. Every so often one or the other got up and walked around to keep from getting too cold or stiff from the sitting. While she was close he tried a deeper search using her scent to lead him back. He did not go too far just in case but it worked and he was able to return.

This time he built the fire to heat their meal and then after watching for a while they retired, sleeping as they had the night before. She had not mentioned the drugs so he had left the kit in the bag.

Another day passed with Chief and Marika sitting watching for the ship and Garrison waiting for a train. He used the method he had been taught to hop the train and he was finally on his way to Paris and Ava. He had spent the night alone but his mind and his dreams had been filled with thoughts of Ava.

The following day promise good things. The weather was mild and the sky was a clear blue. Life was good.

It did not stay that way.

In Paris Garrison hopped off the train. He had been able to elude the conductor all the way. Now he was here. Using his cane to excuse his non-military dress he headed for the hotel and Ava. As he neared the entrance he slowed. There was a pair of soldiers at the door. Leaning heavily on the cane to appear nonthreatening he approached. They gave him a good hard stare but he kept going as if he knew where he was going and this was where he was supposed to be. The trouble was in the Lobby. Four more soldiers were escorting someone but he could not see who it was until he heard a voice speaking German.

"My husband had to go back. His leave was cancelled. That is why he is not here."

Ava. The soldiers were taking her somewhere. He had to do something. He had his papers but he could not go up to them while dressed as he was and he no longer had his uniform. If he presented his papers they would think he had deserted. Damn! All he could do was follow and look for an opportunity to get her away. As they left the lobby, the soldiers outside joined the throng as they headed for their vehicles.

She refused to get in, insisting that her husband would see them all demoted for harassing her. She had to be terrified but she was acting terribly indignant, the picture of an Officer's wife. In the melee he could not see what happened but there was a scuffle a soldier slipped and a gun went off. The tableau froze for a moment then a German voice grumbled that he had been hit in the arm.

Garrison's heart started beating again. She was safe but when they shifted positions he saw she was still being held by a soldier. He would have to follow and rescue her from where ever they were taking her.

She was not fighting them anymore. That was good. He did not want her getting hurt. Why was she not getting in? Why were they lifting…? His breath caught. She was not moving. Two steps closer and he saw why. She was now lying across the seat staring up at the sky, unmoving. A dark blotch in the middle of her chest marred the pretty blue dress she was wearing.

She was dead.

The shot had hit the soldiers arm but it had killed her.

Garrison stood, open mouthed, stunned on the sidewalk. Ava was dead. The woman who had cared about his opinion of her, the woman who had sat with him, the woman who had warmed him, who had let him kiss her. She was dead. He would never feel her warmth again.

The soldier spotted him standing there and gave him a very unhealthy look. Garrison closed his mouth, crossed himself and turned away. He started walking but he did not care where. All he could think of was that she was dead and if he had been able to get back faster she might still be alive.

Chief was relaxed. The day was pleasant and Marika had just brought him a can of something. Funny how much better these rations tasted sitting here with her. As he finished the can he looked down the channel. Something moved. Going deeper he saw it.

"It's there. The ship, it's coming."

She picked up her binoculars and looked but said nothing.

"Down just around that bend." He pointed but knew that was useless. She could not see it yet. It was minutes before she spoke. Her tone said she saw it too. She kept watching until she was sure and then went to the radio.

The coded message was sent but they had to wait for confirmation. Chief hoped that would be soon so they could be far away before the planes came. That was his hope. Besides they had a long way to go for their pick up point. If they travelled fast at first then slowed then maybe two more nights with Marika. Even her name was warm. They waited, still watching.

Finally in late afternoon the word came back. As much as he wanted to leave and get away it would soon be too dark to travel safely. The rations came out and he lit the fire. All was quiet except the occasional crackle from the fire which is why he heard the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming. He called to Marika and mimed footsteps. She apparently understood and turned to watch for their approach. He had to grab her arm and indicate they should hide.

They were safely hidden in the trees when an older man bundled up against the cold and puffing from the exertion stepped into the clearing.

He yelled out, "Lunde" and then stood waiting.

Before he could call again Marika ran into the clearing, yelling, "Farfar."

The man stood stalk-still but she ran to him and hugged him. Chief stepped into the clearing. Farfar pulled her away and held her at arms' length. From his tone he was not expecting her. That shock was enough but when he saw Chief he flew into a rage and strode in his direction yelling angrily. Marika tried to intervene but he would have none of it. When she grabbed his arm to stop him he grabbed her wrist and pulled. Chief saw the look of pain on her face and he ran in to help. No one was going to hurt her if he had anything to do with it. When he got there Farfar had let go and he was ready for Chief, fist cocked. A fist flew and Chief dodged. He might have been able to defend himself and maybe even explain that he had not touched her but Marika stepped in. Farfar's next swing missed Chief and hit her. Her cry of pain spurred him on and he struck back. He had to stop him and see to her. He had to make sure she was all right. His blow connected and the old man staggered back. Chief went to her, crouching down beside her. She was holding her face.

"Are you all right?"

"Farfar, nei! Nei! Ikke skyt!

Chief looked up in time to see the flash as the gun went off. Farfar was about to pull the trigger again so he dodged. The gun went off again and he was up and running. He had to get to the trees.

He was into the trees when the next shot was fired. The bullet struck a tree nearby. He moved farther into the trees and then began to circle around. He would swing around and come in behind him. Another shot but he did not hear it hit. Careful not to stumble on the rocky ground, he continued on.

When he figured he was safe he edged closer to the campsite. The two were standing by the fire talking. As he watched the older man put his arm around her and steered her back in the direction he had come from. She started walking then stopped to look over her shoulder. She was looking for him. Gramps shook his gun in his direction and they continued walking.

Chief felt bereft. She was gone. Her warmth, her smile, they were gone. It was like he could feel the cold seeping into his soul. He stood wondering what he was supposed to do. The ship was spotted and the signal sent. The plan was for the other agent to go into Trondheim and arrange a ride to the next town where a boat would pick him up. That was gone now. He was on his own. Normally that would not faze him. He would wait until dark, go in and steal a car and go but right now he felt lost, lost and alone. Up here on the top of the hill he looked around. It felt like he was all alone in the whole world. Somewhere off to the southwest the rest of the guys were hopefully safe, maybe sitting in the room they shared. He shivered as the temperature began to fall. The sun was setting and breeze had picked up. It smelled like rain.

That thought brought back a memory. It was after one of their training sessions when he had mentioned to Garrison that it smelled like rain. Goniff had made fun of him; going on about how could he smell rain and that rain had no smell. It had clouded over and rained less than an hour later. The Englishman had changed his tune and asked if it was an Indian thing or a Guardian thing.

It was too early to go into the town and he had no idea where Marika and the old man had gone. He did not want to run into them. Best he wait. There was also a chance the old guy would return to finish him off so he had better move which was a good idea if it was going to rain anyway. Carefully he packed up the shelter and returned everything to the pack. Next he grabbed the radio and prepared it for travel. Both packs were moved off into the trees before he went back and removed all trace of their presence. He even put out the last of the fire and scattered the ashes. When he was sure, he returned to the trees, hefted the packs and headed down the slope. If he kept to the south east then he should run into a road and eventually a town. Getting a vehicle was the next step.

As he walked he considered what had happened. Why had the old man been so angry? He knew they were there, that was why he had come. So why was he yelling at her? Then it dawned on him. He knew someone was there just not her. He had called someone else's name and was stunned when she appeared. She was not the one who was supposed to have come with him. That's why she didn't know about the drugs. But she knew what the mission was. Was she a last minute replacement and they forgot to tell her? Guess they forgot to tell Gramps too. When he thought about it he understood the man's anger. She was young and pretty and female and he was a man, or at least that is what he looked like. He snorted at the thought of what he would have done if he knew he was not a man but a dog. Sorry Actor but the old man would have said even worse if he knew.

Carefully he made his way down the rough slope. Occasionally the way was impassable due to a cliff so he had to back track but he was making progress. The promised rain came but he pushed on until he reached the road. The rain was coming heavier now. He knew if he got too wet that he would never get dry so he crawled under a thickly branched tree. Deciding to wait it out, he set up the shelter as best he could and crawled inside. It was a cold wet miserable night. Tomorrow he would get a vehicle and head for the pickup point.

Lieutenant Garrison, aka French civilian, had headed for the hotel. Ava had information for the Allies. Had she already given it and her escort out was her payment or was she waiting to get there before telling? He did not know. If she was waiting then where was the information? Was it in her head? Then it was truly lost. If not then maybe she wrote it down, but where. It could be on her person and if so it was lost. He could not think of a con to get in to see the body and go through her clothes. If he said he was a relative he might be suspect. He did not know why she had been picked up. The only place he could look was in the hotel room. She had had a purse when he met her and he was sure she did not have when she was taken. He had to go to her room and look.

Thanks to Casino's instructions he was able to get the door open but it took him a while and there were signs that it had been tampered with. Casino would have shaken his head at him. There was no help for it. In he went. Half an hour later he had looked everywhere he could think of. All he could hope was that she had already told London because there was nothing here that could possibly be important. A quick look at the bed and he was tempted but it was too dangerous. He would have to leave. One last thought. He had not checked the bed. He lifted the bedspread, the sheets and the pillows but there was nothing there out of the ordinary. He even tipped up the mattress but there was nothing underneath. It was as he was putting the bed back that he smelled her perfume on the pillow. It was almost his undoing. Standing there clutching the pillow he imagined it was her he was holding. He had never felt this way about someone he had known for such a short time. Oh, he had fallen in love with a girl in High School and had become very close to two girls while he was at The Point but not like this. He missed her. With a heavy heart he brought the pillow to his face, pressed it to his cheek and inhaled her scent. Not only that but he felt the sharp point of something in the pillow.

A feather? He probed it with his fingers. No, it was the wrong shape for a feather. Pulling back the pillow case he checked the fabric and then the seam. It had been repaired. Taking the pillow closer to the light he was sure. He was going to have to open it. Too bad he did not have one of Chief's blades. What else? He looked around. In the end he used a curtain hook to pry out one of the stitches. Keeping the hole as small as he could he maneuvered the folded slip of paper out and opened it. There were marks on it but what it meant he did not know. He finished making the bed and slipped out of the room. Next stop, the coast and England. Someone there would be able to figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

A Little Warmth

Chapter 3: Thoughts on the Missing

Casino swept the cards up that lay scattered around the table then waited for Actor to put his cards down. Still holding them the con man sat back and looked at Casino.

"I know," said the dealer. "I'm wondering the same thing." There was a long pause; no one was really eager to play another hand. They had started just to pass the time. So far today they had managed to elude the Sargent Major only once. Getting out of one of his torture/practice sessions was fine but then it left you with nothing to do. At least when you were doing calisthenics or 'organized grab ass' an expression they had heard from the guards and really liked, then they did not have time to worry. Both Garrison and Chief had been sent on separate missions and they were left to wonder. What was the Warden doing? Was he all right and what about Chief? Would he come back drugged? No one looked forward to seeing him go through that again. What if he came back and then died like Always Running? What if he took off to avoid the drug? How would he make his way back to them? Would he even try?

"Funny how things go," said Casino laying the partial deck face down in the center of the table. "When I first saw him chained up like that, I was glad."

"Glad?!" said a horrified Goniff.

"Yeah. Back when I was in Levenworth there was a guy names Two fingers. He escaped from the cops one day when they took him to court on another charge. It was perfect and he was in the clear except they brought in a Guardian. He tracked him, hunted him down and they nailed him, threw him back in prison. If it hadn't been for him then he would have gone free so when I saw the dog…"

"Casino," warned the conman sharply.

"When I saw the Guardian all trussed up in chains it was like payback."

"Please do not use that expression."

"Yeah, I know, but at that time that was what I thought of'm."

"And now?" asked Actor as he carefully put his cards on top of the rest of the deck.

"What do you mean now? He's one of us."

"Right. 'E's not a dog, 'es a gorilla." Two pairs of eyes bored in the Englishman but he refused to back down. "'E's a Garrison's Gorilla." Comprehension but no smiles.

"You know, we had it good in stir compared to Guardians, and it's not like he brags about how hard he had it. Guess he don't like to talk about it. You gotta drag anything out of'm.

"What about you, Limey? What'd you think of'm when you first saw him?"

"I didn't know what to think. We don't 'ave any Guardians over 'ere so I never seen one before. I did wonder why 'e was chained up like that. Way 'e looked, 'e wasn't worth a crumpet. I still don't understand the chains. Chiefy's never done anything that would call for that, at least when 'es not getting off the drugs. 'Es pretty scary then."

"Yeah," said Casino sadly then perked up with a, "And you weren't even in the room with'm."

"Better you than me, mate." They all knew the truth to that. Casino and Actor, both physically capable of looking after themselves could at least protect themselves from a raging Guardian. As lithe as Goniff was he would not be able to dodge him for long.

"'Ow about you Actor. You know all about Guardians. So what else did it say in 'is file?"

The conman had considered how much to tell the others and when. He guess now was as good a time as ever. He would have liked Garrison to be there as well but he could read the notes when he returned.

He then began relating what he had learned including the establishment of a Guardian Identifier at each Indian Residential School. Most of those identified were amenable to working with this new Bureau of Guardian Affairs. The offering of extra rations to the parents, including booze and better food for the young man usually won over the young. Any who refused, usually the older men, were kidnapped. Once away from the Reservation they were plied with just enough alcohol to keep them manageable but they tended to be unreliable.

A year later this problem was overcome with a drug developed by a chemist named Doctor Randolf Richter. This drug that could be administered in a pill form helped to calm the individuals and removed their inhibitions. This made them easier to work with and amenable to taking orders. The following year Ammi Mowry, the man who had convinced the Government of their existence, was killed in an unsolved hit and run accident. He was replaced by Adolf Hann who set up the Guardian Control and Training Institute, G-CAT. The training became stricter and more regimented which required stronger and stronger drugs, drugs that were addictive. Whether this was planned to prevent escapes or a natural side effect was not known.

Once they were trained they were hired out to Police Forces across the country. In the 1920's during Prohibition the Government hired Guardians to work with their agents in the Bureau of Internal Revenue, to locate illegal stills. They had continued working for Law Enforcement agencies.

One other note. As the life expectancy of the average American had increased, that of Guardians had not. For Rogues it had even dropped.

"How do you know all this stuff?" asked Casino when he had finished.

"I have my sources."

"Warden know all this?"

"Not yet."

"Keeping secrets, 'ey Actor?" suggested Goniff with a sneer.

"No," said Casino with a calculating look on his face. "He just found out. Those trips to London." Actor betrayed nothing. "Who'd you bribe? Chief? Tell me everything and I'll buy you a suit. Like he needs a suit," he sneered.

In spite of how good he looked in his new wardrobe, there was no denying Casino's observation. In their line of work it was Actor and sometimes the Warden who wore the suits. The other three worked the background.

After a pause Casino said, "Think there's anything we could do about it after the war?"

"You mean G-CAT?" asked Goniff with interest.

"Yeah."

"We are supposed to be going straight," intoned Actor.

"This is Chief we talking about," snapped the safecracker swivelling around to confront the perceived resistance.

"Yes, but we cannot help him if we end up back in prison."

"We won't." he scoffed.

"Is that not what you said about your last job?"

Casino made a derisive noise and turned back to the Englishman. "There's got to be something we can do to keep him away from those bloodsuckers."

"I did not say I would not help," put in Actor haughtily, not wanting to be shut out. "I just want to make sure what we do is legal."

The safecracker stood abruptly, shoving back his chair. "From what you told us, everything they do is all legal. Anything we do to get around that is going to be illegal and if you're not up for that then you just sit there and we'll do what we have to. One way or another we're going to force'm to let'm go."

Actor refused to get riled by Casino's rant. He knew the man was passionate and passion was good as a drive but it would take brains to steer that passion in the right direction. Otherwise they would end up in prison and Chief would be lost.

"All things legal have loopholes." That got their attention though it was more skepticism than belief. Quickly organizing his thoughts and sifting through possibilities he started. "According to G-CAT all Guardians must have a Handler." So good so far. "As of now, Garrison is his Handler. If we can convince the Lieutenant to petition to remain his Handler after the war then he would be safe. Once G-CAT relinquishes control then Garrison lets him go and he is free." Even Actor knew that was a long shot but it was legal. He just hoped the others would not see the holes in the plan or how long a shot it was.

"You think 'e'd go along with it? The Warden, I mean. Chiefy would."

"You know, it's kind a spooky the way the kid's so attached to him. You think it's a Guardian thing?"

"I do not know about a Guardian 'thing' but it makes sense if you look at it. He has been maltreated for so long and then along comes a man who treats him fairly. That could influence his behavior."

"Yeah, when you put it like that." After a beat Casino added, "We treat him like an equal and he doesn't act like that with us."

"Did you not just call him a dog?" Did Casino actually take a quick look around or was that just his imagination?

"That was what I thought at first," he said by way of an explanation. "Besides he can't hear us."

Actor just looked at him with raised eyebrows. It had the desired effect and Casino looked ashamed. To let him off the hook he brought the topic of conversation back to the original. "What was eerie was the way he found the Warden in Villa San Giovanni."

"Yeah," agreed Casino, his embarrassment gone. "When he told us about that ritual I thought it was just a myth, an old Indian legend to be told around the campfire."

"An' then 'e goes and does it, finds 'im 'alf way across Italy."

"It was not that far, but it was impressive."

"Impressive? Even the great Actor couldn't do that," replied the Englishman derisively.

"I am not a Guardian."

"And glad of it too. We all are."

Their silence was their agreement, their 'Amen to that'. Casino wandered over to the window, reminiscent of their missing team member. "I never thought I would say it but I wish they were back."

Goniff stood and went to his cot. "I know what you mean, Mate. They come back and we go on another mission. I'd welcome another mission as long as we were together."

Actor stood and headed for his chair. He would attempt to distract himself with one of the works from the library though he doubted he would succeed. He kept picturing Chief being dragged away, drugged and chained. Sadly he shook his head but the vision remained.

Downstairs the Sargent Major eyed the grandfather clock in the hall and then checked his watch. The old clock kept good time but every once in a while he had to nudge the minute hand forward. He knew how to fix it but it was not his clock. The owners might appreciate it but on the other hand they might not. Don't stick your nose in what's not yours. That was his Dad's motto, along with many others.

It was time for the nightly ritual. First was a trip up the stairs to the games room. As he approached the double doors at the end of the hall he listened. All was quiet. Were they there? They had been somewhat co-operative today and that had to mean they were up to something. With the Left tenant away what would he do if they had gone? Mentally crossing his fingers he grasped the handle, turned it and opened the door.

Relief, they were there. "All right , lads. Ten minutes to lights out." They never obeyed completely. The ten minutes usually stretched to thirty unless the Left tenant ordered it and then it was fifteen to twenty minutes.

"'Ey, Sarn-Major. You 'eard from the Warden?"

"No, not a word. Ten minutes." He watched as the conman repositioned the bookmark and closed his book. The safecracker headed for his cot and the Englishman grabbed his towel from the line and headed for the door.

Retreating back down the hall the British soldier thought about how subdued the men were. This was the way soldiers were supposed to be but these were not regular soldiers and this was not the way they regularly were. There had been one other time when the Left tenant was away and they were quiet that time but not this quiet. The difference was that one of their own was away too. That was not to say that he was the noisy one, quite the opposite. He was the quietest one, an unusual quiet one.

As he descended the stairs he thought back to their arrival. The first day the Left tenant handed him the list of his duties. It was his job to train the men. He was no stranger to this but he had never trained Americans. When he had been told that the men were civilians and convicts he pictured sneering brutish louts devoid of any decency. He had inwardly wondered how he was supposed to train them. It must have shown on his face because he was assured that if they refused the training that they would be shipped right back to prison. When he met them he had been surprised at how normal they looked especially the tall cultured Italian. This was not going to be as hard as he thought.

The first day he realized that his worry about discipline was warranted. The men obeyed but at their own pace and only as long as he was right there to monitor them. Send them on a cross country run? They would run only as far as he could see them. They did not even bother to pretend to return. He had found them half an hour later sitting in the shade, no apologies, no embarrassment at getting caught. The Englishman, the cheeky devil, had the nerve to invite him to come sit with them. These men were more like undisciplined children with their fighting, their pranks and their disobedience.

If all that was not bad enough a fourth man had shown up. He had seen the look on the Captain's face. He had been surprised then angered. The Sargent Major had waited until he was able to talk to the Officer alone.

"Sir, about that last man…" he started tentatively.

"A Guardian," he answered abruptly as he searched for something among the papers on his desk.

As the Brit watched the search he noticed a pen on the floor by the desk leg. Automatically he reached down and retrieved it. Laying it on the desk he said, "Guardian?" hoping to get more information.

"He's a." The reply was chopped off obviously preventing something regrettable from being said. "He's a Guardian, a damn, Rogue, Guardian." The words were ground out as he snatched up the pen and made a note on the sheet of paper by his hand.

"I'm sorry sir. I don't understand."

After filing the paper he turned back. "He's a Guardian. He has enhanced sight and hearing, meaning he sees and hears better than normal people."

"That's good, isn't it? Doing that for the Army?" Wouldn't that be helpful, he wondered. Why would he be angry about that and if that was all it was then why the chains?

"He's a Rogue, which means he has to be drugged into a stupor."

To the Brit this did not explain the chains. There had to be something else. "Is 'e dangerous, Sir?" One of the guards on duty when he arrived had asked the same thing. He had to know not only for himself but for the Guards and the Staff. He also needed to be able to squelch any rumors like the one that suggested that the prisoner was either a lunatic or a cannibal.

"He won't be here long enough," said the American Captain with a finality that the Brit believed.

But he was. The Captain had lost his rank but instead of blaming him, the Capta… the Lieutenant had accepted the man, they all did. He did not understand it but that was not his job. His job was to run the place. He scheduled and ran the training and practice sessions for the men. He was also the liaison for the Guards and the Staff that ran the place.

When the first box arrived from Guardian Control and Training Institute he had taken it to the Office and then to the cabinet indicated. He was confused when he saw another box, open but with just a few vials missing. The Officer said the Guardian had to be drugged but…

That was when the foolish idea that the Guardian was not being given the drugs popped into his head. The Lieutenant was punishing the Guardian by withholding the drugs he needed. That was why they were still here. Was that wise, was that safe? Without moving he pictured the Guardian. He did not look punished. In fact he looked good, like the others, not like he was when he arrived.

Who was supposed to be giving it to him? He was sure it was not his job; he would have remembered being told that especially since he did not like needles and certainly did not know how to give one. Was it the Officer? What if it wasn't and by asking he got someone in trouble?

That was foolish. The Lieutenant would have noticed the change. He knew. There was room so he slid the new box under the old one and closed the door. "Keep the old stock at the front", was what his Dad had always told him when he helped him restock the vegetables in the display at the front of the store. So for now the Sargent-Major would take his sage advice and keep his mouth shut and his eyes open.

As much as the fourth man, the Guardian was like the other men with his going along with their pranks and getting into fights, he was different. Even if he had not seen him arrive he would have seen the difference. It was like he was just waiting for something bad to happen.

At the bottom of the stairs the British non-com headed for the grandfather clock. Each night he opened to door, took out the key and wound the clock. The sound of the gears clicking into place as the weights were raised was a reminder of home. This was what he heard every night as he was growing up only it was his Father who wound the old clock on the mantle. That done, he replaced the key and closed the door. It was a beautiful old clock. With a last look he headed for the front door. No one locked their door at home but this was a military base and as such was locked and guarded. He could not imagine anyone trying to break in here. The guards were mainly to keep some of the present occupants from breaking out. That had certainly not lasted long.

Once all the doors were checked he headed back up the stairs. One more reminder about lights out and maybe he could get to bed on time.


	4. Chapter 4

A Little Warmth

Chapter 4: The Way back

"I waited." The words were whispered sadly.

"I know and I'm sorry." Craig watched as the woman stepped closer and his heart ached. She looked so sad and forlorn standing there but what tore his heart was the blood stain on the front of her pretty blue dress.

Ave took another step closer and held out her hand. "Why did you wait so long?"

He watched her eyes fill with tears. One escaped and rolled down her cheek. He reached out to wipe it away but his hand went through her. She did not notice but continued to stand there watching him.

"I got there as soon as I could but I was too late. I'm sorry."

"It hurts." She put her hand to her chest and looked down. As if seeing it for the first time she looked up, mouth open, in horror. "I'm bleeding." She looked down at her chest and then at her bloody hand. Her eyes lifted to his. "Help me, I'm bleeding," she pleaded.

Without thought he stepped forward to take her in his arms but there was nothing to grasp, his arms were empty. "Ava."

The sound of his own voice brought him back to the land of the living which in this case was lying on the floor of a loft in a barn just outside of Gaillon. The farmer who had let him ride along on his wagon had allowed him to sleep there. Hopefully the farmer's wife would give him something to eat before he set out again. His chances of getting a lift were slim so he would be on foot.

Later as he walked, always looking out for danger, he thought about the dream. It was only his conscience reminding him of his guilt; it had nothing to do with ghosts. Damn his conscience. The dream had been so vivid right down to the lace on the collar of her dress. And the blood. It had been so real that the feeling of pain and failure crashed down on him threatening to drag him under.

"I am sorry, Ava, but I will not forget you. I will do everything to make your death not in vain." That might not be the right way to say it but it was what he meant. He would get her message through even if it was the last thing he would ever do. And he would let them know how she died without giving him or her secret away. She was strong and brave and funny. He pictured her smile as she said it was a good thing she had brought her own ring and how she had asked if they had a good wedding. A wedding, with her… His thoughts drifted to what she would have looked like if they had gotten married. She was pretty and when he put her in a wedding dress she was beautiful. "Oh Ava," he whispered. "I would have been proud to be your husband."

Chief did not sleep well. He had gotten wet enough to make him cold and he could not seem to get warm. As soon as it was light enough to see he was up, packed and on his way. There was no one on the road so he headed south, down the road. Might as well head in the direction he ultimately wanted to go.

The first few houses did not have a vehicle readily available and he had to laugh when he saw the police car. At least that was what he thought it was. Not many cars had words written on them and it started with the same letter as the cop cars in the US. Too bad he couldn't take it home. Casino would get a laugh out of that. Warden wouldn't.

That last thought took all the fun out of that idea. He wanted to make him proud of him not make him angry. He wouldn't be angry really but he wouldn't think it was funny either. No, he would not take the cop car, even as much as would like to. He kept walking.

Lights were coming on in the houses so he was going to have to hurry. The next one he was going to have to take whether he liked it or not.

He was saved the trouble. As he approached the flat-bed truck the owner came out the door and yelled something. He did not sound angry. There was nowhere to run so he pictured Actor and what he would do. He waved. The man kept walking so he waited. When he was close enough Chief touched his throat and shook his head. Then he pointed to the car, mimed holding a steering wheel and then using a fishing rod. He waited and watched and hoped. The man's expression said he understood and he said something else that included what sounded like Trondheim. Shit. Wrong way. He could not go there; Marika and the old man had gone that way. Besides he was to go south. He shook his head and pointed in the direction he needed to go.

Luck was with him when the man smiled and gestured for him to get in. He was going south. Chief was on his way. The man tried talking to him but Chief could only guess what he was saying. If he smiled so did Chief. When he seemed to be asking a question he nodded. All he could think was, Pleased don't make me agree to something I don't know how to do or that I'll regret. Was he agreeing to stay and help the man? Was he agreeing to kill his mother-in-law? Shit, he hated not knowing.

Finally the man slowed the vehicle, said something and pointed to a group of buildings off to the side. This must be the man's destination. Chief did not know where he was but from what he remembered from the map he had been shown during the briefing he still had a long way to go. They could not have travelled that far yet. He shook his head, pointed down the road and reached for the handle. A hand touched his arm and the vehicle was put into gear. Relief. He was asking if this was where he wanted to go. He was still on track.

His luck ran out when the next town was the driver's destination. As he was about to climb out the driver was telling him something so he smiled and waved. Maybe he was wishing him luck with his fishing. The truck pulled away and he started walking. He could have taken the truck, showed his knife and put him out but the guy had been good to him. He was not desperate yet though he was hungry. Keep going.

He had not gone far when he came to a fork in the road. The sign was not much help; none of the place names looked familiar. Surnadal or Alesund. Mentally he returned to the map. It had to be to the right.

Wait! The map. The map he had seen showed no towns or villages for miles and there was no way he was going to be able to walk the whole way. He turned around and headed back to the town where the driver had gone. He had to get a vehicle here. Broad daylight was not the best time but he did not want to wait until night. He stashed the two packs and went in search.

Half an hour later he had a vehicle, his packs and he was heading for his destination. What he was going to do there he did not know. Marika was the one who was supposed to get him a ride to this other port and set up the pickup. Had she done that? Where they waiting for him there? What if no one was there? How was he going to signal that he was there? He had the radio but he had never had to make a call. He knew there were frequencies but which one was he to use? Maybe she had left it at the right one. And would they believe him if it was? They would think it was a trick. Nothing to be done right then, just get there.

An hour and a half later and almost out of gas he arrived at the end of the road. Up ahead he could see where the ferry docked. This was the place. That was good but the bad news was that all around were high mountains. Would the radio work? He had to try. Also bad news was there were only a few buildings. Where was he to stay until his pickup arrived? He would have to find somewhere to put the truck and stay in it. He was going to be cold and hungry until then.

Leaning over he pulled the radio around until he could open it. He did what he had seen her do and it hissed but that was all. If he moved the dial, after memorizing the original position, all he got was various sounds, none of them what he wanted. Looking around for a high point was disheartening. There were several peaks but they were all distant. The gas gauge showed empty and they were too far away to walk to. He was up shit creek.

Lieutenant Garrison finally managed to stow away on a freight train. By dawn he was cold and sore from sleeping on the floor and he was hungry but at least he had reached Le Havre. His contact was saddened to hear what had happened to the woman he was escorting but he understood how often things went wrong. He was also able to arrange a pickup almost immediately. That was good because Garrison wanted the piece of paper into the right hands as soon as possible.

Chief had waited all day and night in the cold cab of the truck and now with the dawning of the next day he had no choice but to try to talk to someone. He listened to people as they came and went but no one spoke English. He was going to have to decide who to trust.

Someone took the choice away from him. Three men approached the truck and demanded something. He did not know what. This was it; he had to take the chance so he opened the door and stepped out.

"Anyone speak English?"

That stopped them for a few seconds and then the big one attacked. With his back to the truck he was able to defend himself for a bit but eventually a lucky shot caught him and he went down. As hard as he fought he was out numbered and eventually pinned. Even with his arm twisted up behind his back he fought. A kick to the head stunned him. His attackers grabbed his arms, though he was only dimly aware, and dragged him to the wharf. With a heave ho he was tossed into the water.

The shock of the ice cold water pulled him back but he was disoriented. He floundered momentarily in the blackness until he realized what had happened and then he began to claw his way up. As soon as his head broke the surface he gasped for air and swung around to find the land. He had to get out of the water or he was going to freeze.

There, he saw the dock but the three men were standing there jeering at him. There was no escape there. He headed for the rocky shore. He had to get out. His coat, so necessary in the cold air was dragging him down. His arms were wrapped with lead and his boots were made of cement but he had to push on. Pull against the water and kick. Pull against and kick. Pull… He was not getting any closer. Pull against… With a final thought, a plea to his Hearth, his mind shut down every thought except the instructions to pull and kick.

His hand hit something solid but he could not grasp it, his hands were just stumps with no feeling. His other hand hit. Pull. Slowly he dragged himself up the rocky barricade onto dry land. His strength gone he stopped inches from a boot that his mind did not register. Faintly he heard laughter and then it was gone. So was he.

The day was pleasant, the sun was shining but Garrison felt a cold chill. He rubbed his hands together to warm them but the chill persisted. Nerves, he thought, though with the number of missions he had survived that should not be a problem. He thought back to the dream he had of Ava's ghost. Ghosts were supposed to be accompanied by a drop in temperature. Silliness, he scoffed. He did not believe in ghosts and his dream was the product of a guilty conscience not a ghost. Still the chill remained.

The fishing boat arrived and he boarded. As he headed for the wheelhouse he happened to glance over the rail and was stunned to see, clear as day a man thrashing in the water and then he was gone. Thoroughly confused he looked again but the water was calm and no one was there. First a ghost and now a man who wasn't there. He was cracking up. This was not his conscience, this was him going nuts. Hiding his fear for his sanity he continued on his way. He had a mission to complete, a message to deliver. Ava had died in her quest and it was up to him to complete the journey. Then he would get help but right now he had work to do.

He was to wait in the cabin but with time on his hands he had to work at avoiding thinking about his deteriorating sanity. It was not working. The ghost of Ava was explainable. He felt guilty about her death but a drowning man? Why would he… Who was he that… He tried to remember what he looked like. Had he let someone else die because he was late? Did he feel guilty about someone else's…?

It hit him as the image came into focus. The man had turned just before he disappeared. It was Chief. His breath caught. Why had he seen Chief drowning? The chill deepened. Had something happened to him? G-CAT hadn't shown up had they? There was nothing that the Sargent-Major could do if they did. He had no authority. The others would hide him if they could but without warning Chief was a target. He had to find out. His return to England became a matter of even more urgency.

Time, his new enemy, dragged on. The fishing boat met up with the sub and he was transferred and he waited again. Finally they reached the port and again he transferred and waited, this time on a truck to reach headquarters and the debriefing. He went through the details of his mission, handed over the slip of paper and waited as he was taken back to their base. He had asked if anyone had heard from his base but the answer was no.

The closer he got to their base the more he thought, I'm just tired. That's why the imagination's going full time. He took several deep breaths and tried to calm himself. Boy, the Sargent-Major will really think you are nuts if you go running in there like a lunatic.

He was successful and by the time he arrived he was able to walk up to the door and enter calmly. The fact no one was there was within the possibility of normal. They were probably all outside enjoying the fresh air. Finally the Sargent-Major appeared. Yes all was well until he was told that Chief had been sent on a mission. The chill that had abated earlier was back.

Up in the cons room he was greeted as usual.

"'Allo Warden," was Goniff's cheery welcome.

"Glad to see you back safe," said Casino quietly.

"Lieutenant."

"'Ey Warden, Actor's got something for you. Remember those trips to London."

"Goniff," warned Actor. Having stopped the Englishman before he could get the story wrong, Actor took out the papers from the box under his bed. "I obtained some more information about Guardians that I have already shared with my cohorts. You may read at your leisure."

Garrison took the paper and glanced at the top page. He wanted to read it but he still had that gnawing worry that would not go away. "Thank you." He wanted to ask if they had heard from Chief but that was not possible. Besides they would have told him if they had.

Back in his office he laid the papers on his desk and picked up the phone. He would try it this way and hope. Three different people later he was assured that the mission Chief had been sent on was completed successfully and that he was on his way back. That was good news but why had that fear not gone away. Chief was in trouble. He finally hung up the phone and was startled when he saw Actor, Casino and Goniff standing at the door. They looked grim.

He's not all right is he?" asked Actor as he stepped farther into the room.

"What?"

"Chief. He's in trouble isn't he?" said Casino as he too came in with Goniff right behind him.

"He's on his way back. The mission was completed."

"But you know he is not all right." Actor could read the signs.

What did they know, wondered Garrison. Do they feel it too? Or are they just picking it up from me?

"We've had this bad feeling since he left," started Casino. "Now you're back and you're feeling it too. Don't try to deny it. It's written all over your face." He waited for the denial that would not ring true. "So what're we going to do about it?"

There was nothing he could do. Or was there? He had missed saving Ava; he was taking no chances with Chief. "I'll have to find out where he went. Maybe I can…"

"We!" It was a chorus.

That stopped him but it did not really surprise him. They were a team and if one was in trouble then they all pitched in. "Maybe we can backtrack and find him. I was told the mission was completed. If I can find out his exit point then we have a place to start."

"Well, don't just stand there" said Casino impatiently.

A phone call would not get him what he wanted so they piled into the jeep and headed for London. Garrison had suggested he go alone but Casino insisted. He said if Garrison found out then he did not have to come all the way back for them. Unsaid was the concern that he would set off on his own without them. They were not taking any chances.

Major Richards was finally located, off base at an estate thirty miles away so they piled back in the jeep and this time Garrison drove. Finally reaching their destination they spent endless minutes waiting in the salon while the butler relayed their request. When he arrived he was not pleased to see them.

"What is all this about?"

"Sir, we're concerned about one of my men."

Richards glared. "You have interrupted a family dinner to tell me you are worried. There's a war on. Everyone is worried. Now go back to your base…"

"You were real quick to come get'm when you needed 'im," started Goniff sternly. "Well now 'e needs us and we're not leaving until you 'elp us find 'im."

That set the Major back. He was not used to having a civilian, a convicted felon at that, telling him what to do. He was about to blast him when he remembered how these men had saved not only him but the last mission he had led. He owed them something for that.

"All right." He took a deep breath as he tried to recall the details of the mission. Actually he knew the details of the mission. It was the exit he was fuzzy on. "I will need to see a map. Come this way." He led them to another room that was filled with maps. Selecting one he examined it closely as the others stood waiting. Finally he looked up. "A signal was to be sent for a sub here at the Halsa Ferry dock in Norway."

"Can you get us there?" asked Garrison.

"There? Why? Last I heard the signal had had not been received," answered Richards.

"That is why we have to go there," said Actor solemnly.

"I was told the mission was completed. If it was then the signal should have been sent to pick him up. That means something has happened."

"It could also mean he has decided not to return." They were convicts after all.

"No! Chiefy wouldn't do that. 'E's part of the team. 'E wouldn't quit. Not 'im," said Goniff adamantly. "That means 'e's 'urt and we gotta go 'elp'm."

The first time he had met these men he knew who and what they were and what they were worth. After that mission he had re-evaluated their worth. Instead of cannon fodder they had become expendable. Now they were asking him to re-evaluate again up to valuable? Or were they paranoid and becoming a nuisance? The man in question was a Guardian and thus valuable in that he was hard to replace.

Decision made he turned to the only other Officer and said, "Come see me in the morning. I will have travel …" An angry face appeared in his but he refused to step back.

"Do it now." Garrison stepped in grabbing his arm but Casino shook him off with a snarl. "We are going to be on our way tonight. Chief can't wait for tomorrow. Now call whoever you have to and get those papers ready."

"I'm sorry, Sir," started the Lieutenant who hoped to still be a Lieutenant tomorrow, as he and Actor hauled the safecracker back.

The look on Richards' face stopped him. He appeared to understand the loyalty that had prompted the outburst though not the fact he was the target.

"Go back to the base. I will make some phone calls but…" he paused to glare the unruly bunch who dared to bother him here. "Do Not expect me to do this ever again. Do I make myself clear?" One must maintain authority.

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

"And if Chief's dead you won't have to," growled Casino trying to butt in again. "Will you?" He maintained eye contact until Actor pulled him away. The four men left. He saw Casino attempt to turn around, probably to glare at him again but Actor shoved him out the door.

Poor Major Richards stood for a minute unsure of what had just happened. Enlisted men DID NOT talk to him or any other Officer like that. A non-enlisted man just did. Should he take it out on _Lieutenant_ Garrison or praise the man for forging a team out of the dregs of American society. They had come here to plead for help in finding one of their own. Wasn't that what teamwork was all about?

Maybe he would have a word with the Lieutenant about controlling his men and how to enforce discipline. Right after they returned but for that to happen he had calls to make.

It was not until the following evening that transport could be arranged. It was not a quiet wait.

"Why the hell is it taking so long," asked Casino turning to glare at the only Officer he could see.

"Just because a Major says so does not mean it will happen right away," was the response.

"Then we shoulda gone to a General. They can make it 'appen."

"No, Goniff. They can't."

"Then, what's the good of being a General if you can't get things done?"

"If I may," said Actor stepping into the fray. "If all the ships are up and down the coast of Europe then no one can get one to the naval base immediately by just saying so."

"Eh," he muttered. No one said anything more. Casino was just saying what they all wanted to say.

Finally they got the call and almost ran for the boat. They had hoped to be underway immediately but nothing happened. They were taking on provisions. They waited.

"So where're we going?" asked Goniff as he sat down on the bench.

"You will have to ask the Warden when he gets back," answered Actor trying to act nonchalant. Actor was always cool and in control. At least on the outside.

Garrison was finally getting warm but he still had the dread, maybe not so urgent but it was there. It was almost familiar but he could not remember from where. After talking to the sub's Captain he had returned to the mess with the others. Actor was sitting across from him looking worried. Did he feel it too? And Casino? The safecracker got up and began pacing, stopping every few strides to look out into the galley way. He was anxious to be underway. He was nervous on a sub but they had not even left yet. And Goniff? He was chewing on his fingernail. He was anxious too. Could they all feel it? Was that good that they were all concerned about Chief? Or was it so bad that they could all sense it? Damn, when do we get underway?

Hours or maybe half an hour later he heard the call, heard the signal and the running feet and clanging doors. Finally. There was no sensation, no feeling of motion except the vibration of the engines but they were finally moving.

Casino had sat back down but he was still nervous. At least they were underway. He wanted this over. By sub was his least favorite means of travel. Down here he had no control and he couldn't see where he was going. For all he knew they were heading straight for an ice burg like the Titanic. He did not want to die down here. What was driving him was the thought of Chief over there, in trouble.

Damn, he thought, for all this you better be in real trouble. If we've gone through all this and you're sitting in the sun with your feet up, I'm gonna kill you. That though faded away. He could not hold a picture of Chief not coming back. There was only one reason he hadn't and that was because he couldn't. "Hang in there babe, we're coming."

He must have said it out loud because Goniff answered, "You know Chief, 'e's tough. Maybe 'e got lost or 'e missed the pickup."

Casino wanted to yell at the Englishman that Chief never got lost, ever; he always knew which way to go. And he did not miss the pickup because he didn't call for one. He wanted to rage at someone but the worried look on Goniff's face told him it wouldn't do any good and it wouldn't be fair to Goniff. Goniff was trying to convince himself as much as Casino. Don't hurt the guy just because you are worried.

It was a long anxious trip especially when they heard the sound and the floor tilted.

"I hate this," muttered Casino looking for something to hang on to.

"Nothing to it," replied Goniff plunking himself down and then using his feet to slide himself away. "Just think of it as a Roller Coaster."

"There's a big difference. You don't die at the end of the ride."

"Unless you fall out," squealed Goniff as he pitched himself onto the floor rolled once and then got up.

"Goniff!" yelled the Warden. "Enough."

"Come on Warden. Just trying to lighten the mood." He went back to his seat and sat down morosely. Apparently he was trying to lighten his own mood too. After a long stretch of silence the engines started up and the sub rose. They all breathed a sigh of relief but it was only a partial relief. The worry about their friend remained.

Forever later a seaman poked his head in the doorway.

"Ten minutes." He was gone before they could thank him. Instead they rose, grabbed their gear and headed topside. Once in the inflatable boat they all grabbed paddles and headed for shore. The sub had come as far as it dared up the fjord but they had to paddle the rest of the way. If they had not been so worried they might have enjoyed it. The sun was just clearing the mountains burning off the mist that had settled over the water. The only sounds were those of their paddles and the birds that were starting to appear in the sky.

Just past the corner they saw the dock come into view. Under Garrison's direction they pulled in close to the rocks and Garrison took a look through the binoculars. Around this point the steep walls of the waterway fell back leaving an open plain. Their destination was the point of land that projected into the Fjord. At the tip was the ferry dock built out to accommodate the large vessel. The plan was to land at the far edge of the plain and walk to the terminal. They could claim their car broke down. First he wanted to see if there was a German presence. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary he picked up his paddle and they set out again.

After they landed, they hauled their boat out of the water and stashed it in the brush that grew along the edge. Then they walked. Casino had been pleased when he found out Actor did not speak Norwegian. Finally somewhere Actor had never been. The great language master was silenced. Now he wished he did. If anyone came along they were out of luck. There wasn't even anywhere to hide. He tried to walk faster but Garrison reminded him their contact did not arrive for another forty eight minutes, if the ferry was on time.

They stopped for a cigarette wishing they had coffee. The meager supplies they brought did not include a beverage but the morning was pleasant, the sky clear and the sunshine was warming all that it touched. Nearby birds called to each other and occasionally one or two flew out over the water. Sea birds, probably joining the rest out for breakfast. Having dallied as long as they dared they packed up and set out again.

The Ferry Terminal was deserted. There were only a few buildings, including the two barns up on the hill. The rest was farmland. The lights in the house windows and smoke rising from the chimneys meant there were people around just not out at this time of the morning. Bet they have coffee, thought Casino as he buttoned up his coat again. Paddling and then walking had kept him warm. Now he was starting to feel the cold. They waited.

Finally they heard the boat horn, the Ferry was coming. Normally they would hang back remaining out of sight until the ferry arrived and then blend in with the crowd as they disembarked but here there was nowhere to hide. There were only the few buildings and they were set back from the water. There were no trees just rocks and a grassy slope. All they could do was hang back out of easy conversation reach. As the ferry approached a man came out of the closest building, tugging on his coat as he walked out to the pier.

Even as the barge pulled in they could see there did not appear to be any passengers other than two cars and a beat up farm truck. One by one they eased their way down the ramp and then the two cars headed up the road and out of sight. That left the driver of the truck. He had to be their contact.

The truck parked off to the side and the driver got out. He was tall, almost as tall as Actor, but of a heavier build. He was also older if the lines on his face were to be believed. His grey hair was cut short. With long powerful strides he moved around the front of the truck and stopped, watching them.

"God morgan," he called.

"Buongiorno," replied Actor giving a wave. German was probably closer but he did not think using the language of the invader was a good way to introduce yourself. The two men walked over to the truck.

"I hear you are looking for your friend," he said in heavily accented English. His commanding voice was deep.

"Yes, we need your help."

"It is good you ask. Norweigans are not always welcoming to strangers. Especially now."

"I understand. Are there many strangers here? "

"There were two but they had an accident." Garrison nodded in understanding. He was letting Garrison know he was in command. "You should never challenge a Viking" he said staring grimly at the interlopers. "You will lose."

"Thank you for coming to help us. My name is Garrison, Craig Garrison and this is Actor."

He did not offer his hand but he nodded and said, "Thor. Like the Vikings."

"The Vikings were mighty warriors," offered Actor.

"They still are." He was proud of his heritage. "Unlike the Romans," Was he hoping for a response? He had obviously heard Actor's greeting.

Actor wanted to defend his heritage but knew, firstly, that he could not. He noted that this man had the look and heritage of the Norse warriors. Being with the Resistance meant he was still a fighter. He on the other hand… wisely kept his mouth shut.

With his challenge accepted and ceded he asked, "What does your friend look like?"

Craig offered what details he had; height, weight coloring and build but did not know what he was wearing. With that Thor reached into the truck cab, pulled out a package, pointed to Garrison and headed for the closest building. The others waited by the truck as Thor knocked on the door and entered.

Inside was a large open room where a couple were finishing their breakfast. Thor handed over the package and the conversation began. Offers of food were made which both men refused except the coffee. Back and forth they went with occasional laughter. They were obviously old friends catching up with the news. Garrison now knew how his men felt when he and Actor were speaking in German.

Finally the talk slowed and Thor asked a question. Garrison watched and was disappointed when the reply was a negative. Even without the words he knew they had not seen a stranger.

They left the warmth of the building and returned to the truck. The other three climbed into the box in the back. Once they were all seated Thor put the truck in gear and they too headed up the hill.

They had gone only a short distance when the engine began to chug, first just once and then again. Thor did not seem overly concerned as he pulled over and shut off the engine. Climbing out he went around the front and lifted the hood. Actor took the opportunity and came forward to where Garrison stood by the passenger door. He was hoping for good news.

"Problem?"

"I don't know, engine's running rough." They could see Thor doing something under the hood.

Quietly Actor asked they had found out anything. An equally quiet no was the response.

It did not take long for Thor to finish and close the hood. Wiping his hands on a rag he pulled from under the seat he climbed back in. The other men returned to their places. Actor would pass on the news. The engine cranked over several times then caught. Thor put it in gear and released the brake. The truck had just started to move when he stopped it again. He was looking in the rear view mirror.


	5. Chapter 5

A Little Warmth

Chapter 5:

Garrison had already been sighting down the road so he had been surprised when Thor stopped the truck and took it out of gear. He was looking back so he swivelled and did the same. There was someone coming up behind them on horseback and they were riding hard. They slowed when they saw the truck was not moving. The Officer took a quick look in Thor's direction. Was this bad news? Was this expected? What was going on?

Thor sat waiting watching the approaching horse and rider as he pulled up beside the vehicle. When he spoke Garrison realized that he was a she. Bundled up in the large coat with a hat covering most of her head it was an easy mistake to make. Rider and driver exchanged words, some of them testy on both sides. Finally the rider pulled her horse around and headed back. Good, thought Garrison, we can get going. Chief is out there somewhere and I want to find him. To his dismay Thor cranked the wheel around and headed the truck back the way they had come. He looked to the Norwegian in hopes of an explanation but did not want to antagonize him by questioning him. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe there was an emergency. All he could do was hope whatever it was did not delay them too long. Hold on Chief, we're coming, was his silent plea.

Instead of returning to the landing area Thor followed the horse and rider, turning off the main road and driving down a bumpy lane. At the end was a small barn. She slid down from her horse and stood waiting and watching as the truck pulled up. Garrison assumed he was to stay but Thor had one word, "Come."

The young girl opened the door and led her horse in. Thor followed with the Americans on his heels. She led her horse into the first stall and began to undo the cinch so Thor moved to the only other stall in the small barn. Garrison did not know what to expect. Was he a vet and she had a sick animal? There was not much he could do to help with that but if Thor wanted help then he would do what he could so they could get going.

Thor opened the stall door and entered. Garrison stopped at the door to assess the situation. There in the straw was… not an animal but a body wrapped in horse blankets.

Thor was squatting beside the pile of blankets looking up at him as he anxiously moved into the stall. Squatting on the other side he pulled back the blanket from around the man's head.

The man was lying curled up on his side. Bits of straw were mixed into his dark hair and his eyes were closed. It looked like he was sleeping but Garrison knew he was not. It was Chief and he was out and he had to get him back now. How long had he been like this? Chief had mentioned that the longer he was out the harder it was to get back and if it was too long then he would be lost forever. He had to do something. He moved the blankets away from his shoulders. What was the best way? He had to get his attention.

"Actor." He would understand.

Straw rustled as Thor stood and said, "I will send for a Doctor but it will take time."

Garrison looked up. "No, send for our pickup. We have to get him back." More rustling of straw as his second in command moved into place. By the time he was situated Garrison had Chief uncovered. Whoever and for whatever the reason, someone had undressed him to his shorts but then tucked his pants, sweater and coat in with him. A quick look showed bruising on his ribs but nothing serious. Hopefully the dried blood on the blanket was not his.

"Let's get him on his back." Between them they laid him out in the straw and while Garrison moved up by his head Actor pulled the blankets over Chief's legs and abdomen. Though the air was warm enough in the stall Chief's body felt cold.

"Chief, time to come back." He placed his hand on Chief's shoulder. "I'm here waiting for you."

"We are all here," put in Actor.

Nothing was happening so he began rubbing his arms as he continued to talk to him. Concentrating as he was he did not see Actor move but he heard him tell Casino and Goniff to take turns with the watch. He should have thought of that but he was preoccupied. He could not lose Chief now that he had found him. Then remembering something Chief had done before he opened his coat and shirt baring his chest. Gripping the Guardian's hand in his he placed the cold palm on his chest over his own heart.

Actor was unsure how to help. Chief did not like to be touched but Garrison was using that to pull him back. Should he do the same? Would that help pull him back or would it drive him deeper. Actor looked to his leader for advice. So caught up in his quest to help his friend, it took a minute for Garrison to recognize the request.

"See if you can get his pants on. He's too cold. Maybe warming will help."

Actor shuffled down and moved the blanket pulling the pants out. Garrison was right, he was cold. Working carefully he lined up the cold feet with the pants and began pulling them on. Hopefully he would come back calmly and not end up kicking him in the face. The socks were easily put on but he made a mental note to tell Garrison that he needed new ones. Holes were not standard. He found the boots under the straw but decided not to put them on the unconscious man. Instead he rubbed his feet to warm them.

Time dragged on. Both Casino and Goniff offered to help. The young girl returned to the barn with hot coffee. Casino took over while Actor rested and drank. Garrison refused to stop. The icy hand on his chest had warmed but the man was still unresponsive.

Up until now Garrison had pleaded, begged and prompted him to come back. It was not working. In desperation he removed the hand from his chest and laid it down, immediately feeling the lack of warmth. Placing both hands, one on either side of Chief's face he started to tell him, not ask.

"Chief, you've been gone long enough. It's time to come back. Follow my voice. There's no time to wait. You have to come back now." His voice became more urgent. "We have to go and I want you with us. I don't want to leave you here. Come with me. Now."

Chief's eyes opened half way but they were unfocused.

"Look, 'e's back," said Goniff from his perch on the wall between the stalls. Garrison had not even noticed him climb up there.

"Chief?" said Garrison not liking how still he was. He picked up his hand to put it back on his chest and still he did not move. There wasn't any resistance. Now the Team leader was really worried. Not knowing what else to do he held the limp hand in place.

Chief's jaw moved and his mouth opened. Suddenly his chest rose and he noisily sucked air into his lungs. Another breath and his eyes moved slowly, shifting until he found Garrison. A sound came from his throat, half grunt, half moan.

"It's all right Chief, we'll look after you. We're going to get you home."

Casino stepped into the doorway of the stall. "I brought the boat around. We're ready when you are."

"Thanks, Casino," he said warmly. Without his having to tell them, his guys were doing what had to be done. That left him to concentrate on getting Chief back. Looking up to Thor he asked if he could buy the blanket; they were going to need something to keep Chief warm. Without consulting the girl he assented.

"Chief, we're going to get you dressed." It was awkward with Chief's lack of co-operation but they finally got him ready. All this time, he watched Garrison, his eyes slowly following his Hearth's face. Sometimes he groaned; was he trying to tell him something?

In the distance he heard Goniff's worried voice ask, "You don't think he's paralyzed do ya?"

Garrison prayed to God that he was right and it was just the effects of being out. It had to be. Where was their pick up? He looked around but Thor had not returned. How far did he have to go to make the call? Until then they had to wait.

Actor saw the girl poke her head in and he called to her. Using gestures he hoped he had asked her for more coffee. A hot drink might help warm Chief. She returned twenty minutes later with another tray of steaming mugs and a bowl and spoon.

The Officer and the conman propped Chief up and Garrison tried spooning soup into his mouth. It was slow at first but he seemed to be getting the hang of it. After a few minutes they were all heartened when Chief's hand came up even if it was to block the spoon. He had had enough.

"That's good, Chief. We're going to lay you down now."

"No." It was more a grunt but it was definitely a 'no'.

"All right, Chief. Do you hurt anywhere?" His head wobbled indication no. "We're waiting for word on our pickup." He glanced up to see if there was any word. There wasn't, just four anxious faces looking back at him. "We're going to get you home."

All they could do was wait. Garrison stepped outside to get some fresh air and to see if he could see Thor. When he returned Goniff was sitting in the straw beside their Guardian talking to him telling him about their meeting with Richards. He even did a reasonable imitation of his accent. Garrison had to smile at the picture.

As he watched Chief moved first one leg and then the other. His movements were jerky but at least he was moving.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he entered the stall.

"I'm sorry," he said sadly lowering his head.

"You don't have to be sorry."

"It's my fault." He looked up to his Hearth. "I shouldna touched her, it's just… "

"Who? Who did you touch?" He did everything he could to keep the accusation out of his voice

"Marika. That's why they beat me."

"No it isn't." Craig hoped it was not her brothers or husband that had beaten him. "They beat you because you're a stranger." Thor had said they did not take to strangers. That had to be why.

"But I…"

Craig shook his head slowly. "They would have beaten you no matter what you did or didn't do."

"They also threw him in the water," said Actor as he moved to stand at the door. "If you will look at his boots, there in the corner, you will see that they have been soaked quite recently."

"Is that true? They beat you and then threw you in the water?" He saw it coming and added, "And don't say you deserved it."

If he had not been so worried, the look on Chief's face would have been comical. That was exactly what he was going to say. At a loss for anything else he said nothing but the guilt was there for all to see.

"There's nothing we can do about that. We have to…"

"Maybe nothing you can but…"

"No! Thor said they are having to deal with spies. They probably thought he was one too. You know what happens to spies." They were at Thor's mercy for their exit. Antagonizing him would be counterproductive, maybe even fatal.

Turning back to Chief he added, "And that goes for you too. They beat you because they thought you were a German spy."

"She must a told them about…"

"Why? Did you force yourself on her? Did she object?" he demanded sternly.

Eyes wide in panic he blurted out, "No. I never!" He pictured her beckoning him into the shelter, how he had tried to sleep as far away as he could and her following him and laying right next to him but he could not say that. No one would believe that. No woman wanted to be that close to a Guardian. Except Christine. She had but then he hadn't told her either. Marika knew. It was his fault.

"Then it was not your fault. She made her choice." The logic was flawless but G-CAT's training was more ingrained. Chief did not look convinced.

Chief began to struggle to get up. Garrison, still worrying about Chief's guilt, was immediately concerned.

"Chief?"

Casino saved him the trouble of explaining. "Shitters out back."

Understanding, Garrison grabbed his arm to assist expecting to be shaken off. He wasn't. Instead he felt the Guardian lean on him. Finally on his feet Garrison asked if he needed help getting outside. He was assured that he was all right as long as it wasn't too far.

Casino was not taking any chances. "Come on kid, I'll show you were it is." Chief shuffled out and the two men went outside. Actor and Garrison exchanged looks. The two fought like cats and dogs but if one was in trouble the other was right there helping.

It was not until the following afternoon that they got the news. They were to meet the sub at dusk but this was a one-time window. If they missed this then they would have to make their own way out.

When they climbed into the inflatable after thanking Thor and the girl, Chief tried to take one of the paddles. It was with reluctance that he surrendered it. Unfortunately this left him with time to think and it was Marika who his thoughts turned to. He remembered the way she smiled at him, the way she said his name, the way she was so comfortable in the wilderness. Then his thoughts turned dark. Was it all a set up? Maybe she was acting that way to set him up for when the old man came. He was real quick to pull out that gun and start shooting. He was supposed to have died there on that hill. One less Guardian and… His sights swung to Garrison. In his foul mood he added and then he would be free.

As soon as the thought formed he jerked back. How could he think like that? His Hearth had always protected him. His Hearth was good to him. His Hearth had come back for him… because the old man told him that he missed.

In his weakened state the misery was too much for him. He wanted to jump overboard and sink to the bottom but he knew that they would stop to make sure he was dead and then they would miss the sub. He could not do that. What was he supposed to do? He eyed the bottom of the boat wanting to lie down and curl up in a ball and get lost.

No he didn't. He had been lost and Garrison had called him back. He thought it was over but his Hearth had come for him and led him back. His Hearth did not want him dead. His Hearth wanted him alive. He would live for his Hearth.

The transfer to the sub went smoothly. Once they were seated in the Mess Garrison asked the question they were all worried about. "When we found you, it was like you were unconscious. Even when you came to you were unresponsive."

"It was like you were paralyzed," put in Goniff.

Chief avoided everyone's eyes by looking at the floor.

"Too late for secrets, Indian. We all saw it," said Casino. "Now what gives?"

Actor and Garrison were both about to admonish the safecracker for his lack of tact but were stopped by Chief himself.

"It ain't a secret." The way he suddenly stopped and dropped his eyes again told them he had not meant to say that.

"Chief. If I had known what to expect I wouldn't have been quite so worried. Is this normal for when you've been out," asked Garrison gently.

His eyes rose slowly. You knew I was out?" Did he sound hopeful?

"Yes. As soon as I saw you I knew."

Chief look of relief puzzled them all. "I told you that when I get lost I can't find my way back." He paused hoping they would understand. They did not. "When that happens for too long," his voice began to get quieter, "then the Guardian's body starts to shut down." Garrison did not miss the change from first person to third.

"You start dying?" asked Casino.

Very quietly he said, "Yeah."

"But you're all right now?"

"You got me back in time."

"You say your body starts to shut down," suggested Actor as he tried to understand. "Do you mean the brain stops communicating with the body? That was why you appeared to be paralyzed. It took time for the connections to be re-made." Chief did not confirm this theory but he did not deny it either. "How long will this weakness last?" he asked.

"It's mostly gone now."

They would take his work for it but from the look on his face he could do with about eight hours sleep. Actor simply smiled and said, "I am glad we were able to get to you on time."

"Yeah, welcome back to the war, babe."

"Guess you wish you were back there," said Goniff wistfully.

"No."

Casino understood the haunted look. Chief had described what it was like to be lost and it sounded worse that being here. At least he had friends here.


	6. Chapter 6

A Little Warmth

Chapter 6: Needed

She stood in front of him, beckoning but when he took a step forward she stepped back, still smiling. He took another as he reached for her and…

Gunshots, pain and he was falling…

Looking up at the G-CAT Handler's face as he stood over him, sneering.

"They're so stupid. They fall for it every time." Then his face turned hard. "Nobody wants you. No woman wants a mongrel touching her. You're dirt beneath her feet." A gun appeared in the Handler's hand, he pointed it and fired but Chief didn't die. He just laid there in pain hearing the laughter, first the Handler's, then hers then others joined in; louder and louder. He wanted to cover his ears but he could not get his hands to move.

He woke up on the floor. As much as he wanted to get back into bed, the Handler's words had done their job. He was a Guardian and Guardians sleep on the floor. They don't deserve a bed. All he could do was curl up in a ball to try to get warm. As he moved he felt the edge of the blanket that was hanging over the edge. Could he pull the blanket down and use it? It was too much effort so he lay there shivering.

The cot beside him creaked and he cringed, waiting for the blow and then realized that that was Casino's cot and that was him rolling over. Nothing to fear. Sure Casino had hit him and he had hit back. They fought occasionally but never to the point of weapons. They used fists. He threw a dish at him one time when Major Richards was there but they usually just brawled. He didn't hate him, they didn't hate each other. He even helped him sometimes like back there in Norway when he couldn't get his pants undone. He had desperately needed to take a leak but his fingers couldn't undo the buttons. Fingers were the last things to come back when you were out for a long time. If it hadn't been so embarrassing it would have been comical, him standing there fumbling and Casino outside the door asking if he was all right. He had been so frustrated, standing in the shitter and he couldn't get his pants undone. He couldn't even get a grip on them to pull them down. Pulling them up again would have been the same problem.

Casino must have heard him or guesses because he said, "I'm coming in," and opened the door. Instead of a stupid comment making fun of him he had seen the problem, taken care of it and had walked out, closing the door behind him. "Let me know when you're done." That was all he said. Chief was real glad he didn't have to take a crap. Having Casino have to wipe his ass was more than he wanted to even think about. At least now all he had to do was prepare for the day Casino used that, 'had to undo your pants for you'. If he ever said he had to wipe his ass for him then he would have to kill him.

Slowly he sat up and looked around. The others were asleep so he carefully climbed back into his bed. It took a while to get warm after lying on the floor but eventually he fell asleep again.

By the time they had reached the sub yesterday he was back to normal though he was tired and glad to go to bed. Now when he woke up he knew something was different. It was quiet, too quiet. He opened his eyes and looked around. There was light coming in the window and the other beds were empty. He had slept in. A moment of panic as he realized they had been there when he was asleep and couldn't defend himself. They could have done anything to him. A vision flashed through his mind of people standing around his bed laughing and putting things in his bed. It was dangerous to be unconscious around people. It was even worse when you were Out.

He **had** been Out! The guys had seen him; had been right there. Had they done anything to him while he couldn't protect himself? His mind screamed for him to lift the covers and see if they had.

No. They wouldn't do that. They were his friends, weren't they? They wouldn't. The Warden would stop them if they tried. A tiny voice in his head asked if he was sure. Yes. My Hearth was there. He…

That was it! His Hearth said he knew. He knew he was Out. And the others knew it too. Could it be true? Had the ceremony worked? All of it? It was just so hard to believe that he had been accepted by all of them. He hadn't expected it because he was a half-breed and they were white, but…

They said they had known.

The familiar voice of doubt crept in dousing his happiness. 'That's what they said and you know White men lie.'

But they had come for him. It wasn't enough to replace the doubt and his hope faded. He wanted to believe but it hurt too much when he found out he had been suckered again.

No, he would wait and watch. Sooner or later they would make a mistake and give themselves away.

He dressed and went down to breakfast. Everyone was still at the table including the Warden.

"'Ey look it's sleepy 'ead," said Goniff with a grin. "I saved you a piece of toast."

"I hope you slept well," said Actor as he got up and put another egg in the pan.

Casino reached back and grabbed a knife and fork from the counter and put it at his place. Garrison pulled out his chair with his foot while Chief got his cup from the cupboard and poured a cup of coffee. They all acted as if it was normal for him to sleep in.

After they had all finished and the dishes were done Garrison headed for his office, Actor went to the library and Casino and Goniff trooped up the stairs to work on the model airplane kit they had bought in London. Chief headed to the sitting room with its window doors. Actor called them French doors. He stood there looking out at the rain, watching the drops hit the window and join up to run rivers down the glass. Everything was distorted, blurred. Maybe it might have been pretty with all the colors mixed in together with all the different greens of the garden and the trees but he felt sad and tired.

Marika. Just thinking her name brought a pang of heartache. Had she betrayed him? He pictured her face with pieces of blonde hair blowing about, her blue eyes, her smile when she looked at him, how she sat beside him there quietly looking out over the bay. She was young, innocent, too young to be that good at hiding her true feelings. Kids don't do that. Kids came right out and called you names like 'Stupid' and 'Half-breed' and 'Stinking Indian'. 'Go away we don't want you here'.

He stomped on that thought to stop the hurt. He knew what they said; he didn't need to hear it again. She was older than the kids that used to torment him. Maybe she was old enough to learn to be sneaky and pretend to like him just so she could stomp all over him in the end.

Was that why she had turned back to look as the old man pulled her away? Did she want to see the look on his face when he realized what she had done? His anger rose as he decided he should have killed her.

No, he could never kill a woman. He wanted to hate her but he couldn't manage it. Maybe they had forced her to do it? They told her she had to do it or they would hurt her sister or her Mother. It wasn't her fault. He couldn't blame her for protecting her kin.

That still left those three guys. Why couldn't he remember what had happened with them? Gently he probed the tender lump behind his ear. One of them must have hit him. That would explain why he couldn't remember but then why did he go out? When the guys found him he was out. The Warden even said so. So what happened? How did he get to the barn? And Actor said he had been in the water, that his boots had been soaking wet. Did they have to pour water on him to get him…? No. His Hearth knew how to get him back. So what had happened?

There was one other scary possibility. When a Guardian Raged they didn't remember either. What if he had killed one of the guys or more than one? What would his Hearth do? Would they charge him with murder? If they did G-CAT would find out and take him. What would happen after that he did not want to even think about.

If the guy was Norwegian, would they be mad? If they refuse to help the Allies then that would be his fault. What if it was Marika's brother he killed? The weight on his soul got heavier. He could not go on like this, he had to know. Standing up straighter, putting his shoulders back he took a deep breath. He had to know.

Chief knew Garrison left his door open unless he was on the phone or talking to someone so he tried to moistened his lips as walked down the hall. The door was open. He had sorted of wanted it to be closed so he didn't have to ask but that would only give him more time to worry. Get it over with.

At the door he stopped. "Warden?" His Hearth turned around from where he was standing locking his safe. "You gotta minute?"

"Sure, Chief. Come on in and close the door."

Nervous already that made it even worse. Was his Hearth going to yell at him? He said he wouldn't beat him.

Then Garrison confused him farther by saying, "What's on your mind?"

Garrison had known Chief was bothered by something and it probably had to do with the mission he had been sent on. Normally there would be a debriefing but his superiors thought there was point in asking a Guardian anything so he had been spared the inquisition. Hopefully he could help him with whatever it was that was troubling him.

When Chief spoke Garrison knew this was it, he was coming to him for help and he was glad, but when he saw how nervous he was he knew he had to do something to put him at ease. Whiskey was probably not the answer. Instead he tried to make their talk less threatening. He moved over to the other side of the room where the casual chairs had been placed. "Have a seat," he said as he gestured to one of the chairs. He waited and then sat in the other. "How can I help you?"

"Uh." Just say it, demanded the voice in his head. "Back there in Norway…" He watched but Garrison's expression did not change. He was not angry. "I was wondering how…" What he was wondering was how to ask this.

"How we found you?" suggested Garrison. Maybe he just needed a little help.

"Yeah, that too but I wanted to know what happened that…" SAY IT screamed the voice. "Did I kill anyone?"

"Kill? I don't understand. Who do you think you killed?"

Chief was as tormented as a person could get. "I don't remember."

"You did get hit on the head. How much do you remember?"

"I went to Norway, with Marika. We saw the ship. She sent the message. An old guy showed up an' he was mad. He musta thought I…"

"You told us about that. What happened after that?"

Tell him all of it, insisted the voice. "He pulled out a gun and shot at me but I got away. I stole a truck and got to the dock where I was supposed to be picked up. No one was there so I figured I had to ask for help. These three guys came over to the truck. I got out and they came at me.

"That's all I remember 'til you called me back. I don't know if I Raged and killed someone or they hit me and I went out. I don't remember." He drew in a ragged breath and waited his fate. Did Garrison believe him?

"When we arrived in Halsa, your exit point, we were met by a local man. He asked around but no one had seen you. When we were leaving to go inland a young girl stopped us and led us to her barn. That's where you were. She said she found you trying to crawl out of the water so she brought you to the barn and tried to get you warm and dry. Once we got there we took over and got you back. You know the rest."

"The three guys… What happened to them?"

"Is that who you thought you might have killed?"

All he could do was nod with eyes averted. He promised he wouldn't hit him.

"Our contact did not mention anyone being killed. He spoke to people there and nothing was said. If you had killed someone there they would have known. No one said anything so it's safe to say that, no, you didn't kill anyone." Garrison hoped that would put his mind at ease but there was still something else.

"What is it?" Startled eyes met his then darted away.

"If they woulda known about someone getting killed then why didn't they know I was there. You said he asked and no one said I was there until the girl stopped you?" Chief was serious but Garrison was smiling. Fear. Why was he smiling?

"You know, Chief, I wondered the same thing." He paused, waiting for this new fear to subside. "I thought about it and I figured it out. Our contact said they had two spies that, as he said, met with an accident. Do you remember me telling you that you were beat up because they thought you were a spy?"

When he saw the nod he continued. "They thought they got rid of a spy so they were not about to tell us that they had probably killed the man we were looking for. That was why they didn't say anything." He watched. Could he believe that? How else could he convince him?

"So you think I didn't kill anyone?" he asked tentatively.

"No Chief, you didn't kill anyone."

"If I had…" he started carefully then realized what he was saying and rushed to explain. "I wouldn't kill anyone on purpose, you gotta believe me, but when someone pushes a Guardian too far we…" he slowed running out of steam. "It's called Rage and we can't stop it. I… I killed one a my last Trainers in a Rage." He wanted to say that the guy deserved to die for what he had done but figured that would ruin his argument.

"Yes, I knew about the Rage. I also know how badly the Trainers treated you so I understand. Just as long as you do as you're told and stay out of trouble then I will have no reason to push you too far."

"I will die before I ever hurt you or the guys. You're the only family I got and a Guardian looks after his family."

"I am glad to hear that, Chief. You are part of this family and we protect our family."

The weight was lifting, breathing was easier but there was one more thing. "They're not gonna get in trouble for lying about me bein' there are they? An' the girl? Did she get into trouble for helping me?" No one should be in trouble cause of him.

"Our contact didn't say anything so I think he understands why they did it too. He did not look to be angry with the girl either so you are in the clear."

Chief looked to the man who had changed his life, given him a chance for a life and he smiled. "Thanks," he was going to say Warden but that was wrong. He had to do this right. He slipped down on one knee and said with head bowed, "Thank you, Lieutenant, my Hearth."

Garrison had been surprised when he knelt and was about to tell him to stand up but when he heard the solemn words he understood that this was not G-CAT inspired, this was probably from the true Indian Guardian pledging to his Hearth.

He did not know what he was supposed to say so he extended his hand to Chief. His Guardian clasped it and stood. "Thank you, Chief, my Guardian."

Garrison was pleased that the tortured look was gone and that he was the one who had helped him and he would continue to help him where ever he could. In some respects his Guardian was a complex man but in others he was a just like every other person. He wanted to be respected and treated like an equal. That was what he was going to do.


End file.
